


Bonds of Water

by faynia, insolenceandsnark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:10:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 67,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faynia/pseuds/faynia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/insolenceandsnark/pseuds/insolenceandsnark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has never been entranced by music before now, but he is willing to do anything to learn how to play the same melody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonds of Water

_  
**Chapter One**   
_

Christmas never had been this somber before. Not only were the students still there for the holidays affected, but it seemed as if the castle itself was mourning. The fires were dimmer and more subdued in the common rooms, forcing classmates to stick close together by the hearth for warmth.

Hermione Granger had never felt a keen loss of electricity and central heating until this holiday. Ron had gone with his family to France to visit Fleur's family and while Hermione had been invited, she had opted to stay at school to study to keep Harry, who was staring moodily into the fire, company. She closed the paperback novel and set it beside her.

"Harry?"

"What?" he snapped.

She frowned and slid off the chair to the floor. "Want to go for a walk?"

"Where? It's been snowing all week."

"You don't have to leave the castle to take a walk, dummy," she said, nudging him teasingly. Triumph flooded through her when he grinned crookedly at her.

"Dummy, am I?" he chuckled. "Well then, Miss Know-It-All, where do you suggest we take this walk?"

Hermione smiled and stood up, waiting for Harry to do the same thing.

"Actually, I was reading Hogwarts, A History, and was curious about something," she said as they stepped through the portrait and into the corridor. "You know, of course, that the dungeon stretches out underneath the lake, and -"

"It does?" Harry asked, surprised.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you even pay attention to your surroundings?" she asked, giving him a sideways look.

Harry nudged her lightly with his elbow. "It's not like I spend a lot of time down there. I'd spend even less if I stopped getting detention for things like breathing too loud."

"Oh please, Harry. You goad him into it now."

Harry shrugged, grinning easily. "And so what if I do? Slimy git. It probably thrills him to the core to see me kneeling before him."

"Harry!"

"What?"

Hermione groaned and shook her head. "Anyway, I was thinking we could explore the dungeons better since all of the Slytherins went home for the holidays."

"Except for one."

"Come on, Harry. You aren't scared, are you?"

Harry laughed and Hermione smirked.

He wasn't scared, exactly, but a thrill of something intangible ran through him at the thought of exploring Slytherin territory, especially under the rather large nose of the king snake, as it were.

Harry had only seen Snape once thus far this holiday, but he had no doubts the man was stalking the corridors at night searching for unsuspecting students to punish. Merlin forbid anyone had a good time on break.

They meandered through the halls, laughing happily for the first time during the break. This was familiar, normal even, something they hadn't done in two years.

"I wish I had paid more attention second year when Draco led us to the Slytherin common room," Harry said as they followed the stairs into the dungeon.

"If you did remember the way, we couldn't get in; we don't know the password," Hermione reminded him, lowering her voice just in case Snape was about.

Harry grinned cheekily. "Nothing wrong with guessing. We might have got lucky."

"Because their passwords are just as easy as ours?"

Harry snorted. "I happen to like ‘Snorkleback Humptydink’."

"You would."

"I think it sounds enough like a plant that it’s easy for Neville to remember," Harry said thoughtfully.

Hermione snorted. "I imagine it more as a magical creature."

"I bet if you ask Luna, she'd even tell you where it comes from and a list of reasons why it really does exist," Harry continued, laughing.

"Harry! That's awful!" Hermione cried, though she was fighting back a laugh.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, putting a hand on Hermione's arm. "Wait, shhh," he said, cocking his head to listen. "Do you hear that?"

Hermione strained to hear what he had. Soft music, a violin- someone was playing the violin, but the sound was so faint that she could barely hear it. She glanced over at Harry, whose eyes were shut, and watched a small, sweet smile tug at his lips.

That was entirely too odd for her liking. Harry had never shown a love for classical music before, she mused then the song changed from slow and languid to fast and upbeat, almost festive, or folk music, either.

"Harry?"

"Shh," Harry hissed, his eyes opening lethargically. "It's beautiful, Hermione."

Hermione's brow furrowed, thoughts of Chamber of Secrets and the hissing only Harry could hear flashing through her mind. But she could hear the music too, and it was beautiful, she couldn't argue that. The look on Harry’s face, however, concerned her. He looked enraptured.

"It's quite lovely," Hermione agreed, though, if Harry's rapt expression was anything to go by, he didn't hear her at all.

Frown deepening, she took hold of his arm. "Harry? Harry!" she called when he didn't immediately respond.

At her shout, the music stopped abruptly and Harry blinked before scowling at Hermione.

"Why'd you do that?" he barked irritably. "Now Snape's going to find us milling around down here!"

Hermione pulled him into the nearest shadow, hissing, "He will if you keep shouting.” She heard a distant door slamming, followed by hurried footsteps. There was nowhere to run. They were caught.

A moment later Snape was standing before them looking furious. One hand was clenched around his wand and the other clutched a violin bow.

"What do you think you're doing down here?" he demanded, glaring at the two of them.

Hermione gulped, her eyes shooting down to Snape's left hand, the one clenching the violin bow so tightly his knuckles had gone white. Her eyes widened in shock and her gaze shot up to Snape's face. His expression told her nothing about her discovery. She tempered her initial urge to blurt out "that was you?!" Instead, she settled on the tried and true answer of, "I'm sorry, Professor. We were just taking a walk."

"In the dungeons?" Snape asked, obviously not believing they were capable of anything so innocent. "Perhaps looking to steal from my stores once again? I warned you what would happen if you tried, Potter," he snarled, turning his dark gaze to Harry.

Harry scowled. "Yes, Professor."

"Honestly, Professor, we were just -"

"Silence!" snapped Snape, and Hermione's mouth shut with an audible click. "Ten points for your insolence, Miss Granger, and another twenty points from Gryffindor -"

"We weren't doing anything!" Harry argued. Hermione gripped his arm in an attempt to silence him.

"Unless you wish to spend the rest of your holiday in detention, you will both remove yourselves from my sight," Snape warned with an irritated scowl.

Harry took Hermione's hand and pulled her around Snape intent on getting out of there. His mind spun, and his heart beat too fast. Once they had rounded the corner, Harry stopped moving and hoped Snape would just go the other way.

"Why does it always have to be him?" groaned Harry, and he slumped backwards against the cool stone wall.

"Who else would catch us? His quarters are down here," Hermione whispered irritably. "If you hadn't shouted like that, he would have never known we were there! We're lucky we aren't scrubbing cauldrons tonight."

"That's the last thing I want to do right now," Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes blearily. He felt like he had just woken up even though he’d been up for hours.

"I think it would be best if we stayed out of his way for the duration of the holiday," Hermione said, heading back toward the stairs. "We should be revising for NEWTs anyway.”

Harry grimaced. "Didn't you finish that already?"

"No, that's why it's called ‘revising’.”

"I don't even know what I want to do with my life," Harry moaned petulantly. The war had dried up his ambitions to be an Auror and that had been the only thing he had ever considered.

"All the more reason to do well on your NEWTs. They will open up so many more opportunities…”

Harry tuned her out when she started in on his revising method, not in the mood for the usual lecture on his future.

~*~

Harry knew it was foolish, not to mention incredibly stupid, but he couldn't stop thinking about the music. It was after curfew and, despite the fact that he was hidden under his invisibility cloak, he felt exposed as he walked the halls of the dungeon. A fleeting hope grew in his chest as he went deeper into the dungeons than he had ever before. The damp walls around him seemed to push him even further down the twisting halls.

By time he finally gave up searching that night – or morning– his eyes were rimmed red, and he was exhausted. As he collapsed into bed, the melody he'd heard earlier swam through his thoughts, calling to him in a way he didn't understand. Harry wanted it to stop. He wished it would go on forever.

Eventually, he fell into a restless sleep with dreams of long, stained fingers delicately wrapped around a violin bow.

 **  
_Chapter Two_   
**

The dungeons were cool and dank, just like they always were. Harry found himself having to dodge puddles in the middle of pathways, and he never thought he would have had to. He shifted under his invisibility cloak, making sure his feet were still covered. Shadows bent around him as he crept along against the walls.

He had been coming down here every night since the middle of vacation in an attempt to hear that music again. Hermione had begged him to just leave it, but he couldn't. He couldn't explain what compelled him to break curfew. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch. The melody haunted his every thought with its joyful lifts and falls, and he wanted to learn how to play it as well.

There it was. He stopped in the middle of the passageway, straining to hear which direction the music was coming from.

Slowly, he began to move forward, as if hypnotized, with his cloak falling off unknown to him.

He hesitated just outside the door where the music was loudest, not really planning to go inside. He just wanted to listen.

But then the doorknob was in his hand, it was turning, and before he knew it, he was inside the room.

Snape had his back to Harry, and the sound from the violin masked any sounds from the door. Mesmerized, Harry moved into the room. Without any thought, he slid down the wall to the floor, crossing his legs beneath him as he stared intently at Snape, not wanting to miss a single note.

His eyes fell closed and he found his head beating in time to the mellow tempo. He could have been sitting there for hours and never would have noticed the passing time. The sweet music washed over him, filling the hollow inside him until he was certain he'd burst, but still he listened. He felt that if it stopped, he would die.

Soon, Harry found himself humming along softly, unaware of what he was doing until the music abruptly cut out with a discordant screech that had him slapping his hands to his ears.

Snape was looking at him, eyes slightly wild. "What are you doing?" he asked, eyes searching the room for Potter's two companions.

Harry gulped and scrambled to his feet. "N-nothing, sir. I was just-the music was so...I'm sorry."

Snape wanted to scream and tear into the boy, but he couldn't. All he could think was, Dumbledore will have my head.

He grabbed the front of Harry's robes, clenching them tightly as he spat, "You must leave at once and speak of this to no one. Do you understand me, Potter?"

Maybe it wasn't too late.

"Who would I tell?" Harry yelled, twisting out of his Professor's grip. "The only one I would tell is Hermione and guess what? She knows too!"

Snape's hand fell to his side as he looked at Harry in horror. Granger? How could she possibly know? Dumbledore was the only person alive who was aware of what he was.

"What does Granger know?" he asked, feeling the sweat bead on his forehead.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again, his eyes narrowing in thought. There was obviously something he was missing and he wasn't about to blurt out that he was clueless. Hermione had holed herself up in the library ever since the first night they had heard Snape playing the violin, and he hadn't actually gotten around to asking what she was looking for. He made a mental to do so the next morning.

Snape watched the play of emotions across Harry's face, and his scowled deepened. "If you are thinking of lying to me,

Potter, I suggest you think again," he said, his voice low and menacing.

"Not thinking of lying, sir," Harry said sarcastically. "Never to you, sir."

"That will cost you a detention, Potter. Would you like to try for two in addition to the fifty 50 points you just lost your house?" Snape hissed through clenched teeth.

Harry scowled. "No, sir."

"Then get out of my sight, and do not let me catch you down here again, or you will be very, very, sorry; are we clear?" he asked, eyes narrowing angrily.

Harry nodded curtly, shrugging his shoulders before turning sharply on his heel and storming out of the abandoned room. He had to find Hermione tonight. This couldn't wait until morning.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply. He was going to have to talk to Albus, and the very idea turned his stomach. He gently laid his violin in its case, carefully locking it away, before storming to the front of the room, grabbing an eraser, and throwing it angrily against the far wall.

~*~

Harry practically flew up the steps and out of the dungeon. He had to get back to the Gryffindor common room before midnight; he knew Hermione would be awake until then, and he had to know.

His heart beat rapidly as he ran through the deserted corridors and up the six flights of stairs. He never realized just how long it took to get to Gryffindor tower until he was trying his  damnedest to get there in a hurry. He skidded to a halt in front of the Fat Lady panting heavily; bending over, he put his hands on his knees as he attempted to regain his breath.

"Sn-snorkle," he panted, looking up at the Fat Lady with a pleading expression. She eyed him shrewdly for a moment before sighing, and rolling her eyes and swinging open. Harry, grateful, offered her a quick brilliant smile before disappearing into the common room beyond. He hadn't expected Hermione to be standing in the middle of the room with her arms folded across her chest.

"You went in search of the music again, didn't you?"

Harry tilted his head to the side, his breathing slowing down to normal. "So what if I did?"

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, gripping the side of her head as she turned and sat down on one of the squishy armchairs. "You still don't know, do you?"

Harry fell into the other armchair, still breathing heavily. "What's going on?" he asked, stopping a moment to take a deep breath before continuing. "Snape was really upset and it couldn't have-"

"Snape? Harry, you didn't," Hermione said, covering her mouth with her hand.

Harry was beginning to feel a prickle of nervousness. "It's all right, he just gave me detention. Well, he also took a load of points, but--look, just tell me what is going on? What do you know that I don't?"

She exhaled and bent over the arm of the chair to pick up a dangerously heavy book, in Harry's opinion. He watched, with mounting anxiety, as she thumbed through the worn pages. The gold inlay on the side was wearing off, but what Harry could see appeared to be absolute gibberish.

"Ah!" she breathed triumphantly, turning the book around and handed it across to him. Harry took the book and almost dropped it on his foot. Catching it with his other hand as well, he lowered the book onto his lap and stared at the heading on the top of the page, Water Creatures.

"This is the text from third year!" Harry exclaimed, holding the place in the book with one arm as he turned it back to the title page. He saw Hermione's name in the top corner in tidy scrawl and looked up at her in bemusement. "You still have your copy?"

Hermione swept a curly lock off her face with an annoyed expression. "Of course, don't you?"

Harry didn't answer in favor of going back to the page his arm was resting on. He had no idea what he was looking for, until he saw a woodcut of a man with a fiddle, half-way down the page.

"What?" he asked in surprise. His eyes zeroed in on the caption beneath the picture. In shock, he began to read it out loud, "Although becoming increasingly rare, Nixes have been spotted in some of the marshy areas of the United Kingdom and Scandinavia." He glanced up at Hermione to gauge her reaction, but was unsurprised to see her deep in thought, her legs having been pulled up onto the chair with her feet tucked beneath her. "Nix?" he asked, causing her head to whip up.

"Yes."

"What's a Nix?"

Hermione sighed and held out a hand for the book. He gave it back happily: the thing really was very heavy. There was a short silence when all that could be heard was the soft crinkle of pages being turned and the occasional loud pop from the fireplace. She wrinkled her nose as she flipped furiously through the pages until she found the one she was looking for.

"A Nix," she began, going into lecture mode, "also known as Näcken, is a male water spirit who plays enchanted songs on the violin, usually shown in human form. They once were thought to be malevolent creatures who lured women and children to drown in lakes. However, later studies have indicated that the Nix is a harmless creature and attract not only women and children, but men as well with their sweet songs." Hermione paused and looked up at Harry anxiously. "Should I continue?"

He nodded and waved her off distractedly. If Snape really was a Nix, what did that mean for him? It was obvious that the greasy bat did not want this to be public knowledge and that was why he was playing the bowels of the castle, but where did that leave him? The helplessly ensnared boy who couldn't get the songs out of his head? He wondered if all this thinking would make him sick.

"Stories also exist where a Nix agrees to take on a mate who has fallen in love with him and his songs...Harry, are you sure you want me to-"

"Keep going," he ground out.

"Oh," she sighed and readjusted the book on her lap. "However, a Nix will grow despondent if they cannot have free and regular access to the water, and they have been known to leave their mates for their homes near the ponds or streams.

"Some believe that the Nix plays songs to drive away his loneliness and the longing for salvation that he shall never have."

"Bollocks," Harry spat, then blinked. Where the hell had that come from? He scowled at himself and jerked his head in an indication for Hermione to continue again.

"There is another rumor that says," Hermione read lightly, as if trying to ignore Harry's sudden outburst, "if you bring a Nix three droplets of blood, a black animal- oh...they don't say which animal though." Harry watched as her eyebrows knit together in thought and then she shook her head as if to mentally stop herself. She smiled at him, and then, with a sheepish shrug, continued on, "And a bottle of vodka or snus (that's wet snuff) and drop the gifts into water, and he accepts them, he will teach you how to play the music as well."

Harry looked up sharply at that. "It really says that?"

Hermione nodded with a careful expression. "Yes."

"Bloody hell," he muttered, closing his eyes so he could think. "Is that all?"

"Yes," she said, closing the book with a soft thump. "Although, there are some vague mentions to shape-shifting and bits of Muggle folklore that are really quite fascinating."

"Maybe later," Harry said, feeling exhausted. He stretched in the chair and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. "It's getting late. We should probably go to bed."

Hermione stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "You won't go out again tonight then?"

"No, too tired."

She smiled and crossed the small space dividing them, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight then, Harry."

"Good night, Hermione."

~*~

After a night of fitful sleep, Snape was sitting in Dumbledore's office, an untouched cup of tea sitting on the desk in front of him.

"I had no idea they were wandering the dungeons, Albus. There were no Slytherins here for the holidays and I thought it would be safe," Snape said, his hands clenched tightly in his lap.

Dumbledore was watching him over his half-moon spectacles. "An understandable mistake, Severus," he said calmly.

Snape was staring straight ahead, unable to look his mentor in the eye. "Potter returned last night," he said quietly. "He sought me out, or rather, the music."

There was a brief pause in the raising of the cup to Dumbledore's lip, but that was the only indication that he had been taken off guard.

"I'm afraid that I...that-" Snape couldn't finish the sentence.

"That he's become enthralled?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Snape nodded, finally meeting the old man's gaze.

Dumbledore set his tea on his desk and steepled his fingers together. This was not at all an ideal situation.

"And Miss Granger? Did she return as well?" he asked.

"No; at least, not to my knowledge," Snape said, wishing Dumbledore would curse him for his carelessness. Yell at him for his stupidity. But the man looked as calm as ever, and it set Snape's teeth on edge. "Potter implied that she knew something, but I don't know what exactly he was referring to, and he didn't seem inclined to tell me without...persuasion."

Dumbledore nodded, his brows furrowed in thought. "Well, this is an unforeseen development."

"You're rather understating things, aren't you, Albus?" Snape questioned irritably.

"Well, we must consider the fact that Harry was not exactly the must studious of students," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

Snape snorted, but said nothing.

"The odds that he could discover your exact nature are very slim," Dumbledore said reassuringly.

"As always, Headmaster, I believe you are underestimating the boy, or at the very least, Granger. She is more than capable of putting the pieces together; in fact, she probably has done so already," Snape said, angry that Dumbledore wasn't taking this more seriously.

"If Harry seeks you out again, then I will talk with him." Snape began to speak, but Dumbledore held up his hand. "Severus, were I to forbid him to do so now, it would all but guarantee that the boy will do the exact opposite."

"Then toss him out of school," Snape said, slamming his hand down on the desk. "I don't think you understand what this could mean!"

Dumbledore frowned. "Calm yourself, Severus," he warned and waited until Snape had sat back in his chair. "If it becomes apparent that I need to intervene, I shall do so. For now, we shall wait and see what happens."

Snape's lip curled in disgust as he rose to his feet. "You're making a mistake, Albus," he warned, struck by how fallible the old man could be. "I will not be held responsible for the consequences."

"I'll keep an eye on the situation, and on Harry," Albus said, smiling gently. "I'm sure you'll find that things are not as bad as you might think. In the meantime, I would ask that you not play your instrument in the near the future. There is no reason to tempt fate."

Snape shook his head. "You seem to insist on doing just that, Albus," he said, storming from the office, slamming the door behind him.

Dumbledore watched him go, his heart going out to the lonely man. He would be more diligent in watching Harry; but in the mean time, he had the Board of Governors to deal with.

##    
_  
**Chapter Three**   
_   


Just to spite Hermione, and possibly Snape as well, Harry stayed clear of the dungeons for the rest of the holidays. At meals he made it a point to sit as far away from Snape as he could possibly get, which, sadly, only ever seemed to be three chairs down on the right between Hermione and Dumbledore.

Harry couldn't explain, even to himself, why he was trying so hard to avoid Snape at all costs. When Hermione had asked, he had just said that he hadn't wanted to tempt fate and make Gryffindor House lose a cool 100 points before the holidays even ended, but they both know that that wasn't why.

He had taken out book upon book from the library, spending hours browsing tomes on water creatures, and in particular the Nix. There seemed to be a wealth of information on the topic, which felt strange, even if it was very convenient. He supposed Snape never figured anyone would be able to guess or even think to guess his secret. If he and Hermione hadn't decided to go exploring, they wouldn't have discovered it either. Snape probably felt safe in the knowledge that all the Slytherins had gone home for the break, so no one would find out and fall prey to his spell.

Christmas dinner had been by far the worst of all days. It had been the first time that he and Snape were forced to be near one another since their last encounter. Harry, glum as ever, had taken the seat at Snape's left and proceeded to twirl his fork in his potatoes idly until Snape told him in no kind words to knock it off. Things had gone downhill from there.

Dumbledore had insisted everyone pull a cracker with the person next to them and Harry couldn't help but feel that the headmaster had arranged their seating on purpose. Snape had flat out refused to do it with an angry sneer and that had been fine with Harry; but Dumbledore had insisted and, much to Harry's fear and Dumbledore's delight, that blasted vulture hat popped out. Harry had wished he could sink into his seat and under the table because Snape's glare had been that severe.

How any book could assume that being caught in the Nix's thrall meant that it loved its captive was beyond Harry. There was very little love lost between them.

Harry closed the musty book in front of him and took off his glasses, setting them on the tabletop. Hermione made a small noise of interest as she pored over a page in her Ancient Runes text, and Harry shook his head with a small smile. He was glad she had stayed for the hols. Her parents had sent them both presents Christmas morning--much to her chagrin. It had been a nice thought, though, and Harry had made sure to pen a thank-you note to her parents for the thoughtful and hygienic gifts.

"Come on, let's get down to the Entrance Hall. Everyone's going to be back in a bit," he said, standing up to shelve the book.

Hermione smiled, closing her book, stacking her notes neatly, and then slipping them inside the thick text. Harry waited for her by the circulation desk and they headed off together.

"Find out anything interesting?" she asked as they exited the library.

"Nothing new," Harry said, shrugging as they headed for the stairs.

"Does that mean you're going to let it go now?" Hermione asked, searching his face carefully.

"Yeah, I'm over it," he said, refusing to acknowledge the fact that the melody still invaded his dreams on a nightly basis.

Hermione smiled as they descended the stairs, looking forward to the return of their friends. She had spent so much time worrying about Harry and where he was all the time that she was looking forward to being able to get a good night's sleep.

She didn't plan on giving Ron any details -it would probably scare him- but she was going to ask him to make sure that Harry didn't wander off alone at night. However, she couldn't imagine him going to the dungeons now that the Slytherins were back.

They rounded the corner just in time to see the main doors open, emitting a wave of students returning from their vacations. A soft smile appeared on Hermione's face when she saw a tall boy with red hair make his way through the crowds towards them.

She didn't have much time to muse on how much she missed him, but now that he returned, it was taking considerable restraint not to run up to him and hug him.

It took her another moment to realize she didn't have to restrain herself: with a joyful smile that matched Ron's she ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a powerful hug. His arms slid about her, lifting her partially off the ground as they rocked back and forth. He released her and her hands slid down to catch his.

"Good to see you too, Hermione," Ron joked, leaning forward, brushing a kiss across her lips.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and he waved jovially at Harry.

"Hey, mate. How've you been?" he asked, clapping Harry on the back.

"Bored," Harry answered with an eye roll.

"Hey now, is that an insult to my girl?"

"Now I never said she was boring," Harry said slyly, earning a punch in the arm by another redhead. "Ginny!" he whined, rubbing his sore arm with a hurt expression. He had missed his friends--not that Hermione had been bad company, far from it in fact -but it was nice to have all the noise back; it gave him less time to dwell on Snape.

Harry couldn't help but feel a bit envious of their relationship. His own attempts at romance had failed miserably. He'd even tried to make a go of it with Ginny once, but it hadn't worked out. He was still waiting for that click that everyone talked about. He nearly stumbled into Ron when he realized that he wanted to feel like he did when he heard Snape playing. What was worse was it looked like his friends wanted some kind of input from him, and he had absolutely no idea what they were talking about.

Harry nodded distractedly at Ginny, who then went on to talk about the Quidditch match she had played with her brothers over the hols.

Hermione looked at him oddly, and when Harry gave her a pointed look, she turned away. He knew she'd ask him later what he had been thinking, but he was being led into the Great Hall for dinner, so he shoved the thoughts of spindly fingers playing hypnotic tunes out of his mind.

~*~

Dinner had been a noisy affair, and Harry had enjoyed it to the fullest. He knew that after he ate, Hermione would corner him straight away. She was like that, and he wouldn't change her for anything, either.

Ron slung an arm around his shoulders and mussed his hair when he wasn't paying attention as they headed back to the common room. Classes resumed in the morning, and he wanted to bash his head against the rough stone wall when he realized he had Potions as the last class of the day.

"Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?" Ron asked, once they were safely inside Gryffindor Tower.

"Actually, how about a game of chess?" Harry replied, wanting something that would be more of a distraction than Exploding Snap.

"Really?" Ron said, his eyes lighting up. "Feeling like a bit of punishment tonight?" he asked jokingly.

Harry grimaced. "Thanks for reminding me of the detention I have with Filch on Friday."

"What? What'd ya do, blow up the Astronomy Tower while we were gone?" he asked in disbelief.

Harry's gaze shifted to Hermione who was watching him intently. "Er, I got caught out after curfew one too many times," he said, shrugging. "So, your chess set or mine?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Best be yours, mine tend to laugh at you." Ron grinned.

Harry shoved Ron and laughed. "Be right back," he said, taking the stairs to his dormitory two at a time, grateful to have a minute to compose himself.

He knew before he saw her, that Hermione had followed him upstairs, and his suspicion was confirmed when the door shut behind him with a soft click. He turned around, licking his lower lip nervously. Hermione was giving him that stare again, the one that said that she knew what he was thinking, and she was only waiting for him to admit it.

"What?" he asked, kneeling in front of his trunk. He popped open the lid and dug around in the contents looking for his chest set.

"Tell me you're not going to go down there tonight," she demanded worriedly.

"Of course not," Harry said, pulling out his chess set and slamming the lid of his trunk.

Hermione held out her hand. "Give me your cloak."

Harry got to his feet, looking at her in disbelief. "Thanks for your vote of trust," he said, pushing passed her.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could open the door. "Harry, I'm just--"

"I know, you're worried, but you don't have to be," Harry said. "I don't plan on going anywhere. I'm going to play chess with Ron and then probably go to bed. It's been a long week."

Hermione searched his face, then nodded and released his arm. "I just don't want you getting in over your head," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

Harry smiled. "Don't worry. The worst thing that's going to happen tonight is your boyfriend is going to beat me at chess," he said, opening the door.

Hermione laughed. "So, a normal night, then?"

As Harry followed her back to the common room, he wondered if he had just lied to his friend.

~*~

Snape sneered down at the smashed vodka bottle, as if it were the bottle's fault that it was in hundreds of glass shards on his floor.

He nudged it with the toe of his boot, cursing his rash actions. This wasn't a time to be panicked. It was a time to watch his own back. He flexed his fingers, scanning his room for any signs of an invasion, but everything was how he had left it -save the one destroyed bottle of alcohol.

He angrily brandished his wand and cleared up the mess, knowing exactly what Albus would say if he saw it. There was a time for caution and a time for relaxation and he might as well just hunker down in his rooms until he was certain it would be safe to emerge. Damn boy, it just had to be him, didn't it? Precious Potter and his need to cause more trouble than he's worth. The boy just had to know his secret; he was certain of it, despite Albus's words.

His fingers flexed again and he stole a glance across the room at the finely polished instrument. He longed to play it now, anything to take care of the headache he had procured.

Clenching his hands tightly into fists, he went to his bathroom and grabbed a towel from the pile on the shelf. Tonight, just living under the lake wasn't good enough. He stormed through his rooms to the small passageway that led to the far side of the lake.

He was going for a swim before he went mad.

~*~

He had been outside for an hour before he felt even remotely calm. Snape got out of the lake with an irritated scowl. It hadn't worked; his body was still tense and on edge. He couldn't believe that it hadn't worked, and that left only one option to him before he had to commit the extreme.

No one had been out that late that night to see him break down on his way to the lake, and there was still no one watching when he got out and stalked back to his rooms. He slammed the door behind him, relishing in the loud noise.

He grabbed up his violin from where it sat and picked up the bow as well. Adjusting the instrument so that it fit snugly under his chin, he brought the slender bow up, rested it on the strings and inhaled deeply.

As his bow moved across the strings, he put all his pent up frustrations and emotions into the music, allowing it to soothe him. He lost all sense of time, allowing himself to indulge in the music.

The more emotion he poured into it, the more relaxed he became. He was heedless of the world around him--beyond caring about Dumbledore, Potter, or anyone else.

~*~

Far up in Gryffindor tower, one boy lay awake in his bed, gripping his sheets. At first he had woken thinking that he must have had a nightmare, but it wasn't until he'd managed to calm down, that he realized the true reason why.

Snape. The bastard was playing his violin and Harry could hear it all the way up in his room. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all, and there was so much pain behind the music that he could positively feel it.

He tossed off his bed covers and sat up, thinking that perhaps if he started to move around, the urge to go and listen would leave him. He really should have known better. As if controlled by a spell, he found himself standing and moving towards the entrance to the dormitory. None of the other boys had woken up: no one else heard the sweet, sad songs that were being played with such intensity. It was just him, and his feet, unbidden by him, were carrying him closer to the sound.

There were a million reasons why he should not have been going; chief among them was that his invisibility cloak had been confiscated by Hermione, and the chances of him getting caught were huge. Then there were the more mundane reasons: it was

Snape that his feet were dragging him to see; how horrible was that? Ron would kill him if he knew where he was going. Hermione would box his ears when he managed to get back. Snape would kill him if he caught him listening again. He'd get another detention with Filch and lose Gryffindor even more points. Some Slytherin--with his luck, Malfoy -would find him down there unarmed and kick his arse, boy hero or no. He was in his pajamas, for Merlin's sake! He was barefoot. The temperature was freezing cold. Mrs. Norris still scared the piss out of him! The planets weren't aligned right! The music really was horrible sounding!

His feeble logic died the second he set foot into the dungeons; his brain seemed to click off and he was left swimming. He felt like he was being wrapped in a warm blanket, and he stopped fighting the inevitable. It didn't matter that he had no idea where Snape's rooms were. It didn't matter that this was Slytherin territory that he was going into unarmed. All that mattered was getting to the source of the music and losing himself in it.

~*~

Dumbldore stood outside the door of Snape's quarters, shaking his head sadly. There was such pain and such longing in the notes that Severus played, at times, it seemed to break his heart. But there was nothing for it: Severus had failed to erect so much as a silencing charm around him; though Dumbledore had a feeling that even if he did, Harry would know anyway.

Sighing, he let himself into Snape's rooms, following the sound of the violin to the man himself. Snape was there, eyes closed, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Severus?" he called, but the man was too lost in the music. "Severus!" he said, louder and with more authority. The music stopped with a shriek of bow against string.

Snape's eyes widened. "Headmaster," he said, a bit breathless.

"Severus," Albus said, holding out his hand.

Snape handed Dumbledore the bow, feeling defeated. "I had to Albus," he said tiredly.

Dumbledore nodded toward the violin case and waited for Snape to put away his precious violin. When it was safely stowed, Dumbledore set the bow on the nearby tabletop.

"Severus, I need you to be honest with me, and even more importantly, to yourself," Dumbledore said, putting both hands on Snape's shoulders. "Were you trying to call him to you just now?" he asked, searching Snape's face intently.

Snape stepped back, horrified. "Of course not!" he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Then you would be surprised to find out that he was coming to you tonight? That had I not stopped you, he would have been at your door once again?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Snape turned away and began to pace, his mind racing. Had he allowed that part of himself take control? Were his instincts over riding his common sense?

"I swear to you Albus, I was not calling to him. At least...I wasn't... I-" Snape's voice dropped off to a whisper, no longer certain.

He grabbed his violin case, shoving it at Dumbledore. "Take it," he hissed, feeling as though he were giving away his very soul. "I don't know that I can stop. The compulsion is worse than it's ever been before."

"I cannot take this, Severus," he said, pushing it back into Snape's hands. "It would be worse than taking away your wand. No, I think that you need a few days off, some time at home perhaps?"

Snape snorted. "I went 'home' tonight Albus, and it didn't help at all."

"Then consider it an order from your employer. Go home for a couple of days and give me time to think. I'm so sorry, my boy; I didn't realize it had reached this point. I feel as though I have failed you. You came to me, and I ignored the severity of the situation," he said, squeezing Snape's shoulder.

Snape nodded weakly, all the fight having gone out of him. Maybe Albus was right and things would be better if he spent some time at home. Away from the world that was, at times, so dry that it grated on his very skin.

"You win, Albus, as always. You'll have someone cover my classes?" he asked. "Someone other than you," he added, quirking his brow.

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm sure we will be able to manage a couple of days without our Potions Master."

Snape snorted and shook his head, hoping that his classroom would be in one piece when he returned.

~*~

Harry froze at the end of a corridor. The music had stopped and so had his involuntary movement. He looked around himself, bewildered, before turning tail and fleeing. He shouldn't be out here, he could get caught or worse.

His bare feet hit the cold flagstone as he raced out of the dungeons and into the main part of the castle. He couldn't let this happen again, but he doubted he had any control over what he did anymore.

"Snorkleback Humptydink!" Harry shouted as he neared the Fat Lady, having not stopped running since he left the dungeons. The Lady sniffed and glared at him as she swung open to admit him, before he jumped through her portrait. He dove into the common room and stopped.

He had lied to himself; he had promised that tonight would never happen again, despite the fact that he would kill just to allow himself be lost to the sound one more time. He sat down in an overstuffed armchair, knowing that there was no chance of falling back asleep that night.

The crackling fire had gone out and was no more than a few glowing embers, but Harry, for once, did not mind the silence. He couldn't shake the melody; it was under his skin, playing on repeat in his mind, calming his heartbeat and breathing. He imagined, if he closed his eyes, that he could see the song behind his eyelids in bursts of brilliant colors.

His mind was made up, and probably had been from the start of this entire fiasco. He was going to convince Snape to teach him how to play like that, and neither Hermione, Ron, nor the headmaster himself could stop him.

 **  
_Chapter Four_   
**

Harry's eyes were burning by the time he had sorted out in his head what it was he was going to do. The sun was rising above the trees of the Forbidden Forest and he knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of Gryffindor House woke up. He'd been thinking about it all night, just how he was going to obtain the necessary gifts for Snape.

Vodka was going to be the easiest of all. It wouldn't take much effort to snitch a bottle from Seamus's trunk. The sandy-haired Irish boy had enough alcohol in his chest to keep a man quite drunk for a few good years. Everyone knew about it, but no one would tell on him – and for a good reason. He threw the best parties once a month where all the older students of the school got together and drank themselves into a stupor. No one wanted to jeopardize that.

A black lamb would be a bit harder, and not just because lambs were exceedingly rare in the wizarding world. He didn't know if he was capable of drowning a baby animal, even with his eyes averted. It would be there bleating in his arms, before he would have to place it in the water to die. The thought made him ill. He'd never taken an innocent life before, and, of course, it would have to start with a baby animal. He just had to be curious; he just couldn't leave well enough alone. If he hadn't obsessed so much on what Hermione had said, he never would have looked for a more specific answer. He never would have found out the ambiguous animal referenced as one of the gifts in their old textbook. Hermione would certainly have a thing or two to say to him when she found out what he knew. There was no chance she wouldn't.

The blood though...he knew it meant his own. He'd need something sharp to accomplish that task, but he could just transfigure something into a knife or needle and be done with it. He sighed, casting a glance around the still empty common room.

His endeavor started today. He just wished he knew how to make himself feel better about what he was doing. He was so deep into thought that he missed Hermione's entrance; however, he couldn't miss her when she stepped into his line of sight.

"Were you up all night?" she asked, sounding worried. Harry didn't blame her: if his eyes weren't at least half as red as he guessed, he'd go kiss a fish. He rubbed his itching eyes with the back of his hand and stretched in his chair.

"Yeah, I was."

Hermione clucked her tongue in a reproving manner. He sagged, waiting for her to lecture him, but none was forthcoming. She continued to stare at him with a searching gaze, and Harry sighed again.

"Yes," he said, knowing what she was going to ask before she even spoke, "I couldn't help it."

"I know," Hermione said, rubbing her forehead. "Did you get caught?"

"I don't think so; at least no one bothered to stop me."

She nodded and took the seat across from him. "So, what were you thinking about so hard?"

"You're going to think I'm an idiot."

Hermione smiled. "You are an idiot, Harry. I thought we'd established this already."

"Hey!" he cried, bringing his hand up to his chest in a wounded gesture.

"So, tell me," she said, bringing the conversation back around.

Harry clasped his hands in front of him and stood up. He paced in front of the dead fire unsure of where to start. He wanted her to understand what it was like when he heard the music. How he had reacted earlier that morning when Snape's playing had drawn him from the tower down to the dungeons.

Before he could begin, however, Dennis Creevey and another 4th year came down the stairs. They stopped when they saw Harry and Hermione, and then began to talk in excited hushed tones to one another before running back upstairs.

"What do you suppose that was about, then?" Harry asked, eyeing their retreating backs with a puzzled expression.

Before Hermione could answer, a booming laugh came from upstairs, one they recognized well. They looked at each other as Ron came down the stairs, a huge smile on his face.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked as Ron came over and kissed Hermione's cheek then put an arm around her shoulders.

"Creevey junior thinks you two are secretly dating," he said, laughing. "I overheard him telling Colin."

"Oi! It's not that far-fetched!" Harry argued with mock indignation.

Ron put his free arm around Harry's shoulder and steered the three of them toward the portrait out of the common room. "I know my best mate would never home in on my girl," he said. If he squeezed Harry a bit hard, neither of them acknowledged it vocally, but Harry got the idea: don't even think about it.

"Course not!"

"I'm right here, you know!"

Ron turned bright red and Harry managed to sneak out from beneath Ron's arm, thus avoiding being smacked by Hermione. He grinned cheekily at the brunette witch who just huffed and folded her arms across her chest. She made to storm away from them, but Ron grabbed her and pulled her back against him.

"Let me go, Ron."

"I'm sorry!" Ron said, nuzzling against her neck.

"For what?" Hermione asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

Ron looked at Harry, who merely shrugged. "Um, because Harry's a prat?" Ron asked hopefully.

Hermione elbowed him in the gut and stormed off, leaving Ron and Harry staring after her.

"Better go fix that," Harry said, trying to keep the smirk from his face.

"Women," Ron muttered, running after her. "Hermione, wait!"

Harry chuckled as he watched the two of them walking ahead of him. Classes would be interesting today!

 

~*~

Harry hadn't given it much thought when he didn't see Snape at breakfast. After all, Snape had missed it before. He was actually glad, because he wasn't sure his nerves could handle his eating while Snape glared at him.

By the time breakfast was over, Ron and Hermione had made up, and the three of them went to Transfiguration together, laughing over a story about Ron and a jinxed shirt he'd got from the twins for Christmas.

It was between Transfiguration and Charms that the rumors began reaching him.

 _“Yeah, the git wasn't in class. We ended up harvesting ginger root with Professor Sprout."_

 _"Maybe he finally snapped and killed a first year and Dumbledore sacked him."_

 _"It'd be brilliant if Snape was out for the rest of the week; I owe him a two foot essay that I didn't finish!"_

 _"Sprout said she'd be taking his classes for the rest of the week. Maybe he's sick.”_

Hermione looked at Harry, wide-eyed. "Harry, do you know what's going on?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Harry shook his head, a sense of unease growing within him. "No, I didn't even get caught last night," he reminded her.

"Hey, what are you lot whispering about?" Ron asked, looking at the two of them curiously.

Hermione looked at Harry as if asking permission, and he nodded. "You explain it, I'll just balls it up," he said, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Wait until we're in Charms," she said. "We're still reviewing for NEWTs and I think we're reviewing Cheering Charms today.

Nobody will pay any attention to us."

Ron frowned, but nodded; Harry was glad he had a few minutes to think. Snape had always liked to tell Harry that the world didn't revolve around him, but he had a feeling this had something to do with him. Dumbledore had to know about Snape, that he was a Nix. Did Snape tell Dumbledore that Harry had come to his rooms when he had been playing his violin? Had Snape been sent away because of him?

Harry wondered if he could get out of Charms by vomiting in class because his stomach was twisting and turning like mad. He was desperately trying to convince himself that this had nothing to do with him or the music, but he was failing miserably.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Hermione whispered, once they had taken their seats. Harry could only give a curt nod.

His stomach protested miserably.

"Perhaps you should go and see Madam Pomfrey," she suggested, not having given up her quest to make sure he was well.

"I'm fine," he bit out in a harsher tone than he had meant to. He sighed and scrubbed at his face, willing his stomach to settle.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Ron hissed.

Harry ignored him, so Hermione began to fill Ron in on the details. By the time she was done, Ron was looking at Harry wide-eyed.

"He's a Nix?" Ron queried, looking between the two of them. "You're sure?"

"Not completely," Hermione whispered back as Flitwick began class. "But it all fits."

Ron ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "Mum used to read us a bedtime story about a Nix and a woman who fell for him. I didn't find out until I was older that she changed the ending to something happier. Guess she thought we might be disturbed by a fairy tale that ended in death," he said meaningfully to Harry.

Harry gave him a wry look, his nose wrinkling a bit. "Thanks ever so much for that, Ron."

"Magical creatures are crafty. Should have known Snape was one; he's as crafty as they come. How do you know he's not trying to lure you in like some kind of Siren?" Ron asked, lowering his voice when Seamus looked at him curiously. "I think Hermione's right, mate, you got to stay away and let it go."

Harry was growing more irritable by the second. "If I could just let it go, I would," he said, scowling, "but I can't."

Hermione put a hand on his arm. "At least talk to Dumbledore," Hermione encouraged. "Maybe he knows how to break whatever hold it has on you."

"And now he's an 'it'?" Harry ran his hand down his face repeatedly, barely restraining himself from slamming his head against the wooden desk before him. Why couldn't they understand what it was like? He was happy in the thrall. He'd rather drown than not be able to hear that music again.

Hermione looked worriedly at Ron and whispered something to him that Harry couldn't hear, but he didn't care. Their words had already passed by him and he was left to think of a way to get the things he needed to get Snape to teach him to play, no matter the cost.

~*~

Snape paid his respects to the Merpeople before losing himself in the soothing waters of the lake. Occasionally the songs from the Mermaids reached him and he'd float beneath the water, letting the songs wash through him, his mind translating the melody so he could play it on his violin when he returned to the surface.

He spent hours visiting with the creatures of the lake, becoming one with the dark waters once again and easing the ache in his soul. Albus had been right to send him away -to send him to the place he desperately needed to be.

The Dark Lord was gone; Snape would not be brought from the depths of the lake to heed his painful call. He could lose himself here for a few days until Albus collected him. Smiling, he let himself sink to the bottom of the lake, inclined to feel the sand squish between his toes.

 **  
_Chapter Five_   
**

Harry felt very much like a thief. In his backpack he had the bottle of vodka he had pinched from Seamus, and he was holding a small box that contained a black mouse he'd taken from the Transfiguration classroom. When he'd found out that the black animal had to be a lamb, he'd nearly backed out, but it was too late for that. He would transfigure the mouse into a lamb before tossing it in. The thought of doing that made him ill, but he was desperate.

Since Snape had disappeared, he wasn't sure if anything would happen at all. Would the man coming storming out of the dungeons intent on throttling him? The book said he'd have to teach Harry the enchanting music, so hopefully it would work out. He'd learn the tune, then this could all be over.

"Harry, please, you can't do this," Hermione cried, but he continued walking towards the lake. "At least talk to Dumbledore first! I'm sure he knows about Snape, maybe he can explain it, or break the hold it has on you," she said, looking helplessly at Ron.

"Come on, mate," he said, grabbing Harry's arm. "Think about this."

Harry shrugged him off. "No Ron," Harry said with determination. "I'm doing this. If you can't deal with it, both of you go back to the castle." His eyes bore into Hermione's.

"Harry, it's tantamount to animal sacrifice! Can't you see how dark that is?" she asked, pleading.

"I have to do it," Harry stated, not swayed at all.

"Harry!"

"What?" Harry snapped irritably.

"It's a baby!" Hermione cried.

"No, it's a mouse, Hermione. A little rodent: not a lamb, and not a baby."

"It's still a living creature."

"I know."

"And it has thoughts and feelings. Are you just going to kill it so heartlessly?"

"Hermione-"

"I mean think on it, Harry. Do you really want to do this?"

"I HAVE NO CHOICE!" he yelled, wishing she could just understand and stop making it harder than it already was.

Hermione shook her head sadly, and then turned and walked back to the castle. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged. "I'm not letting you go alone. Who knows what will happen? Someone's got to watch your back."

Harry nodded gratefully, and they walked to the shores of the lake together. A strong wind buffeted against them as they clambered down the slope. As they neared the water's edge, Harry worried that he would topple in. He took off his backpack and set it before him, right at the water's edge.

"You sure you want to do this?" Ron asked, hugging his cloak tighter around him. Harry nodded stubbornly as he began to pull the objects from the bag and set them on the shore. The sand was hard and didn't give beneath their feet like it normally did. Ice lined the edge of the lake and Harry broke some of it with his toe. It cracked and popped, bobbing in the frigid water.

He picked up the vodka first and, by the neck of the bottle, tossed it in a high arc over the lake. He was quite satisfied when it hit near the center with a splash.

"Nice toss," Ron whistled. Harry grinned, but it faded when he went to pick up the tiny box with the mouse in it. It hadn't moved since he had taken it out of the tank and he had almost convinced himself that it wasn't alive, until he heard the faint squeaking. It was whimpering. The tiny field mouse was whimpering like a scared child. Harry's throat constricted as he pulled the creature out of the container.

"Ron, could you hold it for me?" he asked, handing the terrified mouse to the redhead beside him. Ron took the creature carefully and held it in both his palms.

Ron flashed him a reassuring smile. "Just don't transfigure my hands, all right?"

Harry snorted and raised his wand. He quickly cast the spell, unable to watch as the creature morphed. Its body grew larger, bones breaking and cracking, and then reassembling. He had barely been able to do it in class without being ill.

A soft bleat echoed across the lake and Harry looked up to see Ron awkwardly holding the squirming, panicked creature. He took the black lamb back from Ron and just held it. Hermione's accusations kept repeating in his ears as he took the baby sheep. He cradled it to his chest, and kissed the top of its head. It might only have been a transfigured mouse, but he still couldn't just toss it into the lake without some kind of acknowledgement.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, his body trembling when he inhaled.

He held it out from him, and, with his head turned to the side, he tossed the baby animal out into the lake. The splash wasn't enormous, but he still shook when he heard it. He couldn't bring himself to look out at the helpless, thrashing creature. It hurt enough to hear its panicked calls, and then, after a long moment, there was silence.

Harry shivered, finally gazing out across the expansive water. He only saw a few air bubbles rising where the lamb had gone under. Ron touched his shoulder in concern, but Harry brushed him off.

That only left the blood.

He held the sterile needle out in front of him and shuffled closer to the water's edge. He looked down into the murky contents and swallowed thickly. Once he did this, there would be no turning back, no matter the outcome. Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly through his nose as he pressed the tip of the needle against a fingertip. He flinched when the sharp object penetrated the skin, and he opened his eyes to see a bead of blood forming on the pad of his index finger.

He turned his finger over and began the slow count of droplets as they fell. One...two...three. Harry popped the bleeding appendage into his mouth and sucked on it. He turned around to see Hermione running down the hill followed by Professor Dumbledore. Hysterical laughter threatened to bubble out of his throat. They could have stopped him if they had just arrived a few minutes sooner. He never would have...no, not yet. He couldn't think about what he had done just yet; he'd lose it if he did.

"Harry, what have you done?" Dumbledore asked breathlessly, his eyes searching the waters of the lake.

"Ron, why didn't you stop him?" Hermione cried, her eyes going between Ron, Harry and the lake.

For his part, Harry felt calm for the first time in days as he stared out over the water. "What happens now?" he asked Dumbledore quietly.

"Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, please return to the castle. Speak of this to no one," he said, his eyes lacking their usual luster. "I will speak with the two of you later."

"Please, Headmaster can-" Hermione began, but Ron cut her off.

"Come on, Hermione," he said, taking her hand and pulling her away. "Good luck, mate," Ron sighed.

They left Harry and Dumbledore alone, staring out at the water. "Now what?" Harry repeated to Dumbledore, seeing no reason to lie or equivocate.

"Now, we wait," Dumbledore said, his voice filled with sadness.

"What for?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry, supreme disappointment in his eyes. "To see if your gift is accepted."

Harry watched the choppy surface of the lake, looking for some change in the wake. He half expected the bottle of vodka to be chucked at his head, knocking him out.

"Look."

Harry looked up at the old man next to him and realized that he was still staring out at the lake. The wind ruffled his hair and he turned back towards the lake, almost jumping backwards in shock. There were people looking back at him, and not just one or two, either, but fifteen to twenty.

"Merpeople?" At Dumbledore's nod, Harry continued. "What are they doing?"

"The same as we, waiting to see if your gift is accepted," Dumbledore answered.

The Merpeople were silent and solemn, and Harry was beginning to grasp the magnitude of what he had done. "Why?" Harry asked, looking over his shoulder at the castle, half expecting Snape to come storming out at any second.

"My boy, you have no idea what you have done, do you?"

Harry swallowed thickly. "I thought I did."

Before Dumbledore could respond, there was a ripple out in the water. Harry squinted, trying to see what had caused it. There was a small wave heading in their direction, causing Harry to step backwards in fear. Dumbledore merely stood, watching as the wave came closer to the shore. There was a kind of serpentine quality of the movement that was different from the Merpeople. It was almost hypnotic.

Harry watched, fascinated as Snape's head broke through the surface of the lake, followed by the rest of him, fully clothed and holding the lamb. In five long strides through the water, Snape was standing before him, completely dry except for the hem of his trousers, which were slightly damp.

Harry's mouth parted in shock and he took another step backwards. "I-I-"

"I accept," Snape sneered and handed him back the lamb with a rough shove. He made a wide berth around Harry and stormed off towards the castle.

Harry felt his legs give out beneath him and he fell to the ground. He still held the innocent creature securely in his arms, uncertain if what he felt was fear or relief. Dumbledore cast a drying charm on the lamb and Harry felt the tingle of residual magic creep up his arms.

"It is done," Albus said softly, staring after Snape. The Merpeople dove beneath the surface as quietly as they had come, while Harry just sat on the damp ground while the water seeped into his clothing.

"What happens now?" Harry asked, scrambling to his feet, letting go of the lamb after he transfigured it back into a mouse.  He wrapped his arms around his waist, beginning to feel the cold all around him.

"It's not my call. It is out of my hands now."

Harry didn't like how ominous that sounded. "Well what am I supposed to do now? Do I go after him, or..."

"I suggest you return to your dormitory. Do not speak of this to anyone, as it could put Professor Snape in great jeopardy. I would hate to see him suffer any more than necessary because of your thoughtlessness," Dumbledore sighed sadly, and Harry could feel the disappointment practically radiating off the old wizard.

"Hermione and Ron kind of know already," Harry reminded him, feeling sheepish. He really hadn't thought this through at all.

All he had wanted was to hear the music -to have it for his own- and everyone was acting as though he had committed some crime. "They won't tell anyone though; they're used to keeping my secrets."

"See that they do," Dumbledore said. "Return to the castle, Harry."

"Yes sir," Harry replied, and began the trek back to the castle. When he looked back, Dumbledore was still unmoving, simply staring out across the lake.

His feet carried him back to Gryffindor Tower as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong. The entire castle seemed displeased with him, as though it was snubbing him as well. Staircases made it a point to move every time he set foot on one, the portraits were unusually silent -he could feel all their eyes on him as he moved- and more than once he stumbled when he was walking down the flagstone corridors. Even the air itself felt unbearably cold to him.

He didn't understand what he had done wrong. The Fat Lady didn't even ask for the password, but swung open the moment he reached her as if she wanted nothing to do with him either.

"Hermione?" he called out when he set foot into the common room. His annoyed gaze swept over the inhabitants of the room, searching for the familiar, frizzy-brown-haired girl.

"She's upstairs, mate."

"Damn it!" Harry swore, lashing out at a chair before throwing himself onto it. This was so completely infuriating!

Twenty minutes later, there was still no sign of Hermione or Ron. "Lavender, will you please go and get Hermione and tell her I want to talk to her?" Harry begged, knowing he didn't stand a chance to get to the top of the stairs in the girls' dormitory.

"You’re the reason she's in this state then?" Parvati asked, entering the room.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, but she's been up there muttering and knitting like mad," Parvati said, rolling her eyes. "She's not even using magic."

The portrait door opened and Ron stepped inside. Harry was next to him in an instant and grabbed him by the arm. "We've got to talk," he said, pulling him back out through the portrait.

"Yeah, we do," Ron agreed, shaking his head.

Harry turned to see the Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait and his moodiness grew.

"What the hell is up with everyone?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. He shifted and the nervous gesture didn't make Harry feel any better.

"You know what I mean, Ron. It's not like I've just killed someone!"

"The way Hermione explained it, you may as well have," Ron murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

Harry blinked, releasing Ron's arm. "What did I do? Tell me what I did wrong!"

"You sacrificed a lamb for the bloke."

"That isn't funny," Harry said stonily. "And it wasn't for him, it was for the music."

Ron's face flushed in embarrassment, and he rubbed his arm. His eyes darted around the hall to see if anyone was about before lowering his voice, and asking, "Did Snape, you know, accept your offering, or whatever?"

"Yes."

Harry didn't know why, but he realized he didn't want to share the details of what happened after Ron and Hermione had left. It felt like he'd be betraying a confidence if he'd tried to explain what it was like, watching Snape come out of the water like he did.

"Look, mate, I'm sure Hermione could explain it better than me," Ron said, rubbing his neck nervously.

Harry figured that out himself, but at the moment he'd settle for any explanation at all-even one with shoddy details.

"She's holed herself up in the girls' dorm. Please, just...tell me?" he begged.

Ron took a deep breath and nodded. "All right. Near as I can figure, when Snape agreed, it was to teach you how to play like he does."

"Right, that was the whole idea," Harry said, "so why is that so awful?"

"Well, it also sort of means that he's bound to teach you, because if he doesn't, you could go kind of crazy," Ron answered, shifting nervously.

"Wait. What?" Harry almost grabbed Ron and shook him. He covered his face with his hand, his fingers spreading so he could still see the other boy. "But, then why is everyone mad at me and not Snape for agreeing?"

"Well, he might not have had much of a choice," Ron replied. "I guess his Nix instincts might have made him agree, whether he really wanted to or not. And once he's agreed..." Ron trailed off, shrugging sheepishly and wishing Hermione was there to explain the rest.

Harry sighed, his hand falling back to his side. "Is that all?"

"No," Ron admitted, taking another deep breath. "Once you learn how to play, you'll be fine and you can go do...whatever. The way Hermione explained it, when you leave, she thinks he'll get all depressed and die or something, but you know Hermione, she's probably overreacting," Ron said hopefully.

"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed, brushing aside the tendril of concern associated with Ron's flippant comment.

~*~

Snape stared into the fire, swirling the brandy in his glass. He wasn't at all surprised to hear his door open: Albus seldom bothered to knock.

"Severus? Are you alright?" the man asked, sitting on the couch and summoning a glass and pouring himself a drink.

"Please, come in, can I offer you something to drink?" Snape asked drolly.

"Yes, to both, thank you," Albus said, smiling.

After a moment's pause, Albus said calmly, "I was surprised you agreed." Snape could feel the man's eyes on him, searching for some kind of answer.

Snape laughed mirthlessly. "So was I," he murmured into his glass, downing the rest of his drink before pouring himself more.

"You know what this means?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape slammed his glass down on the table next to him. "Of course I know!" he shouted. "It's my bloody life, such as it is." He got to his feet and paced in circles in front of the fire. "I couldn't help it," he said through clenched teeth. "I couldn't say no, despite the fact that I knew I should have."

He looked at Dumbledore, whose eyes reflected pity and sadness.

"And should he decide to leave when all is said and done?" he asked softly.

Snape shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "Then I will follow him or learn to cope without him."

"And if you can't?"

Snape didn't bother to answer.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think the boy knew what he was doing when he –"

"Of course he did!" Snape said, whirling to face the Headmaster. "You can't honestly believe he just happened to have a bottle of vodka and a blasted black lamb that just happened to fall into the lake. Then what? He scraped his knee on a rock and just happened to bleed into the water?" he asked derisively.

"If you would let me finish," Dumbledore said evenly. "I don't think he knew what the consequences would be, and for that, I blame myself." He set his glass on the table, sighing loudly. "I know the students like to think that I am all-knowing, but I honestly didn't think it would get this far. Severus, I am so, so, sorry. I should have talked to Harry and made him understand."

"Or perhaps he should have paid closer attention in his magical creatures lessons," Snape growled.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As to that, I'm afraid I took that particular topic out of the subject years ago."

Severus blinked, stunned.

"I saw no reason to draw attention to it. You had enough questions surrounding your character without needing to add rumors and speculations about your excursions into the lake," Dumbledore argued.

Snape refilled his glass and resumed his seat in his chair. "You need to leave now, Albus," he said, his voice cold.

"I am truly sorry, my boy," Albus said, standing and touching Snape lightly on the shoulder before leaving.

Snape ignored him, staring into the fire, wondering how on earth he was going to teach Potter how to play music.

"If he goes mad it's his own fault," Snape muttered, but deep down, he knew he would do everything in his power to stop that from happening.

~*~

Hermione didn't need to look up to know that Ron had just come down the stairs. It meant that Harry had finally stopped kicking himself over what he had done and gone to sleep. The fire crackled merrily in its grate, breaking the silence of the empty room. She sat up making room for Ron to sit down next to her. She felt the couch dip, and then Ron's arm was running along her shoulders and pulling her against him. She leaned her head against his shoulder and curled into his side.

"He's not taking this well, is he?" she murmured, tracing an indistinct pattern on Ron's trouser leg.

Ron squeezed her shoulders gently. "You're not going to start blaming yourself too, are you?"

"I have to, Ron. I know Harry did all that research on his own, but sometimes he doesn't look too far into things. If I had known he was this far gone—"

"Stop right there. This is Harry. Even I know he hides things from us. Do you really expect him to tell us everything, especially something like this?"

She hummed and gazed up into his face. "He's asleep then?"

"Yeah, he is. I might have accidentally slipped a sleeping draught into his water glass." Hermione pinched his side and he grinned, kissing her temple. "Do you sometimes feel like we're his parents?" Ron asked with a soft chuckle.

Hermione gave him a smile full of affection. "All the time."

 **  
_Chapter Six_   
**

Sunday morning at breakfast, a school owl swooped down, landing on the table in front of Harry. Nearly knocking over his pumpkin juice, she dropped the note on his his plate and nearly got the edge covered in marmalade.

Scowling at the bird, Harry gave it a bit of bacon and opened the note.

 _You will come to my office at 7:00 for your first lesson. Do not be late!_

 _S.S._

Harry's eyes flickered up to the staff table, but Snape wasn't there. There was a bit of disappointment at that, but he dismissed it. He folded the note and stuffed it into his jeans pocket, not missing the looks he got from his friends.

"Who sent you the letter, mate?" Ron asked as he and Hermione both leaned forward. "Was it...him?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, he wants me to meet him tonight."

"About time," Hermione said, sitting back on her seat. "I was worried."

"That what? He'd forget?" Harry snapped.

She blushed. "No."

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said before Ron could hit him. "I've been on edge the last couple of days."

"No kidding," Ron muttered.

"You try having the whole castle out to get you," Harry said, still annoyed that it was taking him twice as long to get anywhere, and the portraits were always giving him disapproving looks. "You'd think the place was actually looking out for the git."

"Well, if you think about it, Snape has spent the majority of his life within these walls," Hermione pointed out. "He'd only been out of school a few years when he came back to teach," she reminded him.

"Still not fair," Harry grumbled, taking a grumpy bite of his pancakes.

~*~

He really couldn't believe he was doing this. After a full day of anxious waiting, he was finally going to meet Snape. Half of him was worried he'd get chewed out for being such an idiotic child -which wouldn't be anything new, he had certainly heard it more than once that week- but the other half, the excited half, was bouncing about like a four-year-old getting his first puppy.

Harry knocked on the large door to Snape's office and waited, not sure if he was early or late.

The door opened and Harry cautiously stepped inside. Snape's head was bent over his desk, the red ink in his quill leaving blood red traces of disdain. Harry stood in front of the desk, waiting to be acknowledged, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot.

The minutes seemed to tick by as Harry stood there, watching Snape grade essays. Finally, he put the last one on the stack and only then did he look at Harry.

"Is it true I might go crazy?"

Harry's eyes widened as he realized that the words had come from him.

Snape's upper lip curled into a sneer. "A question you should have asked before your little stunt," Snape said, pushing back from his desk. "Follow me."

They entered a room off to the side of Snape's office that Harry had never been in before, and from the looks of it, neither had anybody else in a very long time.

"What room is this?" he asked, looking at Snape curiously.

Snape didn't bother to answer as he crossed the room and picked up a violin and bow that looked like they had seen better days. He handed it to Harry and stood back, folding his arms across his chest. "Hold it."

Harry looked at the instrument in one hand and the bow in another. He had seen people playing one before on the telly and had some idea that he needed to place it under his chin, but he knew he'd look even more clueless than he did just standing there if he tried it. However, Snape was waiting and he couldn't just do nothing.

He hesitantly raised it to his chin and then paused, glancing at Snape with a pleading expression. He really had no idea how to situate the instrument beyond this.

"Er..."

"Er...what, Potter?"

"I don't know what to do," he admitted sheepishly, lowering the worn violin.

"At least you can admit you're an idiot," Snape replied, moving to his case and taking out his own instrument. If the boy had just started to play, making the strings screech with each movement, Snape would have tossed him out on his ear, damn the consequences.

"Observe," Snape said, holding the violin in the correct position. "Notice the placement of the instrument, the position of my elbow and the way my feet are placed." Harry nodded and tried to mimic the position. Snape set his violin carefully on the desk, and began repositioning Harry's body.

Harry pushed himself to become lax, moving with Snape, resting the instrument on his left shoulder and positioning it under his chin. It was awkward, but not uncomfortable. Snape straightened his left wrist and he locked it into place, earning a short nod for that effort. His elbow was then adjusted until it was just in his line of sight. All the while, Snape kept his hands on Harry's shoulder, preventing him from moving it up.

"Move your feet so more of your weight is on the left," Snape muttered, nudging at Harry's heels with the toe of his shoe.

"Like this?" he asked, hastily shifting his weight, while trying to keep his instrument in position.

"Good enough for now," Snape said, nodding in approval. "Now, take a moment to let your body grow accustomed to the position, feel it and internalize it. The position of your elbow in regards to the rest of your body. The balance of weight on your feet, the position of your shoulders..." He felt Harry's shoulders relax at the reminder.

"What about the bow?" Harry asked, barely moving his mouth, afraid it would shift things too much.

"Forget about the bow," Snape said, his voice low and soothing in Harry's ear. "Feel the way the violin sits in your hand, the angle of it, the way it sits under your chin. It must become an extension of yourself, or you will never truly master it."

Harry felt a shiver race through him and he couldn't explain why. His eyes drooped as he tried to do what Snape told him, but it was so hard with the man right behind him like this. This wasn't like Potions class, where Snape was breathing down his neck waiting for him to make a mistake so he could take points, this was just waiting for him to internalize his word.

He relaxed, trying to memorize without looking the way he was holding the violin, the weight of it against his shoulders and in his sweaty palms.

"How do I know when that happens?" Harry whispered.

"When you feel empty without it," Snape said softly. For most people, it was merely an instrument, but for Snape, it was part of his very soul. If Harry had any chance at all of learning the music Snape needed to teach him, it had to become the same for Harry.

"Relax now," he said, his voice brisk as Harry lowered the violin. "Again."

Harry looked at him blankly for a moment. "Oh," he said, positioning the violin under his chin once again. It didn't feel right, but he couldn't place what was wrong until Snape pushed down his shoulders.

"Align your elbow," Snape reminded, adjusting it to the left just a bit. "Now hold."

They repeated the exercise so many times, that Harry's arm was beginning to feel numb, and his chin felt sore, but he was improving. He had it right more often then not, but Snape wouldn't be satisfied until it was right every time.

When Harry was certain he'd drop the instrument, he refused to repeat the exercise. "Please, can we stop?"

Sighing, Snape nodded. Harry lay the violin gently down on the table before flopping into a chair. "This is more exhausting than Quidditch," he exhaled.

"And to think, this is nothing compared to what is to come," Snape said, his voice like rich silk.

"Professor, I'm sorry I did this, I didn't understand what -"

"Silence!" Snape thundered, voice cold with command. "This is a topic of which we will never speak again."

Harry gulped and nodded. "Sorry, sir."

There was a pause, not an uncomfortable one, but it wasn't exactly a nice one either. Harry's mind played out various scenarios as to how this was going to work. He didn't just want the answers to all the questions he'd been accumulating, he needed them, and he got the feeling he'd be spending more time in the library this semester than usual. He rubbed his aching arm, wondering how on earth he was going to move it, let alone hold onto his broom with it.

"Remove your shirt," Snape ordered briskly.

Harry shot off the stool. "What for?"

Snape looked to be counting to ten because when his eyes opened, they were calm again. "Your shirt, Potter." He held out his hand, waiting until Harry finally removed his shirt, a bit slower than usual. He handed it Snape.

"Now what?" Harry asked.

"Now sit down and hold still," Snape instructed, coming toward him with an almost predatory gleam in his eye that caused Harry to shiver. Even his prick noticed: it began stirring with interest, causing Harry to blush.

Snape had a bottle in his hand, which he opened. He poured a small amount into the palm of his hand, then recapped it. He rubbed his hands together, warming the liquid inside of them, the smell of peppermint filling the air. Finally, when he reached Harry, he laid those hands on the young man's shoulder. He slid his palms down Harry's arms in alternating pressures as he massaged the oils into the arm.

Harry moaned at the affection he was receiving and moaned again for his groin that was in desperate need of a similar attention, but wasn't likely to receive it.

He whimpered pathetically when Snape removed his hands. He desperately needed relief now.

"May I go now, sir?"

Snape studied Harry carefully, looking for subterfuge, but he found nothing sinister in the boy's pleading look.

Snape waved him off. "Return tomorrow at the same time."

Harry nodded and snatched his shirt back, before jumping off the stool and hastily exiting the room. He buttoned up his shirt as he walked through the office, wanting to put as much distance between him and Snape as possible.

His erection was unrepentant in his jeans and he wanted to cry. Harry Potter did not get erections from smoldering Snape glares. It wasn't done! It hadn't happened before, so why now? He walked uncomfortably through the halls in the direction of  the loo. He had to do something about this before someone saw him because he was almost positive he'd die of embarrassment if they did.

He found himself humming softly as he reached the bathroom and realized, much to his shock, that he wasn’t humming; Snape was playing the violin again. The music was fast and full of dips and falls, like a beating heart. He stood still, just inside the door, letting the sound wash over him and then envelop him. Only this time, the feeling didn’t just stop at comfort. No, this music went straight to his heart and from there downwards. Pumping through his veins like a drug, making him numb except for one part of his body.

Harry gasped, his cheeks flushing as his cock pulsed in sympathy with the crescendoing music. He managed to stumble into one of the stalls and shut it behind him. His breath hitched in his throat as the music swirled around him and through his head.

It had to be magic, there was no other explanation. He shoved his jeans down with shaking hands and pulled his unyielding erection out of his briefs. He couldn’t remember being this hard in his life.

With three hard, quick strokes, he was coming, and a low keening sound echoed around the bathroom, but he was unable to stop.

It was almost painful; it seemed to go on forever, and he couldn't get enough.

~*~

Ron and Hermione were up and waiting when Harry arrived back in his common room. He had the sudden fear that they both knew what he had done in the loo on the way back, and he could feel his face heating up. There were a few stragglers in the common room who hadn't gone to bed, so Harry waved the two of them to the chairs in a secluded corner.

"How was it?" Ron asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Hermione said nothing, and despite the darkened corner, he could swear that she was wringing her hands in her lap.

"It was alright. He didn't let me do anything but hold the violin," Harry said, shrugging. "Didn't play a note."

Ron glanced at Hermione. "He didn't hurt you or anything?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course not. In fact, he...look, he didn't hurt me."

Hermione was looking at him oddly, and Harry was very glad she had never learned Legilimency.

"I'm going back tomorrow. Who knows, he may let me actually use the bow," Harry said, a bit sarcastically. "I'm tired, I'm going to bed. Night," he said, smiling weakly.

"Night," they both echoed, and Harry could hear them talking softly as he walked away.

As he crawled in to bed, he made a mental note to ask Snape to play for him tomorrow.

##    
**  
_Chapter Seven_   
**   


"What in the hell did you play last night?"

Snape looked up as his office door slammed shut. Potter was standing before him scowling, and looking for all the world like a puffed-up bird.

"I played nothing," he stated, returning his attention to the essay he was correcting - it was surprisingly coherent for once - and, reluctantly, he marked it and put it on top of the other ones already graded.

"Don't give me that crap, you played something all right and it..." Harry flushed and bowed his head.

"Watch your tongue," Snape warned icily. "Perhaps it would behoove you to do a little research before you meddle in Dark magic.”

"What did you do to me?" Harry gritted out, unable to meet Snape's steady gaze.

Snape looked at him in disbelief. "What did I do to you?" he growled, pushing back from his desk. He stood, bracing his hands on the desktop. "If you had not been out of bounds you never would have heard a single note, but as always you insisted on doing what the great Harry Potter wanted to do, and damn the consequences. And if that wasn't enough, you initiated a magical contract, one that I was kind enough to agree to because you weren't strong enough to walk away. Do not even deign to ask me what I did to you," he finished, his nostrils flaring in irritation.

Harry had retreated until his back was against the door, wondering if he should flee. But his own anger wouldn't allow it. He moved to the desk, placing his hands right in front of Snape's, his face a few inches from his own.

"Are you denying you played your violin last night when I left?" Harry growled, not in the mood for a lecture on his stupidity; he was getting enough of those from Hermione.

Snape's sneer morphed into a smirk. "You'll have to be more specific," he said, sitting back down in his chair.

Harry could feel his face heating. Did Snape want him to spell it out for him? There was no way he was going to admit that the sound had made him come, that was far more information than Snape ever needed to hear. "You know what I'm talking about!"

Snape knew exactly what Potter was talking about, but he refused to explain himself. It had started out as a way to punish the boy, but the longer he played, the more caught up in the melody he became. When he reached the crescendo of the song, he had climaxed without even touching himself. That had never happened before, and it had disturbed him more than he would ever admit. Of course, he was now bound to Harry, which may have subtly altered the affects of his music.

"Always read the fine print," Snape said, brow arched imperially.

Harry shook his head tiredly. Hermione had been right; he'd had no idea what he had been getting into. There was only one thing for it, and that was to learn to play.

Seeing the fight go out of Harry, Snape sighed. "If you're done with your tantrum, we can begin your lesson," he said quietly.

Harry's look of surprise amused him. "You thought I was going to toss you out?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded.

"It is a magical contract that cannot be broken, no matter how much either of us may wish it," Snape said, getting to his feet. "Come, let us see if you remember anything you were taught." He swept from the room assuming Harry would follow, which he did.

Harry couldn't concentrate, not with Snape so close behind him, breathing down his neck as he tried to adjust the instrument in vain. It wasn't that he didn't know how, and Snape knew it too! That angered him; well, that and the fact that Snape didn't seem to have a sympathetic bone in his body. Harry was prepared to smash the mahogany instrument on the floor in an angry outburst just to get the man away from him.

The worst bit, however, was that he craved to hear Snape play. Not the fast, driven song from the day before. No, he wanted the bittersweet melody he first heard being played by skilled hands. He wanted to be wrapped in the music's loving embrace – longed for it even.

Harry looked straight ahead as Snape continued to critique his position. There had been more than one time that night he'd been snapped at for being inconsistent. "Professor Snape?"

Snape grunted, readjusting Harry's elbow once again. "What, Potter?"

Harry felt nervous and he swallowed, hard. "Could you...could you play for me, sir?"

Snape stepped back, studying Harry for a few moments before nodding. It was obvious Potter was too distracted to concentrate and he was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"Just not the one you played last night," Harry said pleadingly.

Snape snorted and went to the table where his violin case rested. He opened it, his fingers caressing the wood before removing it. He took a moment to strengthen the silencing charms before picking up his bow. He plucked the strings experimentally and was satisfied with their tone.

Snape took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he began to play. The tune was slow and soothing, washing over them.

Harry sat down on the floor, crossing his legs, just watching and listening, memorizing. Unlike previous times, no one would interrupt them; the music wasn't as heavy as usual. As Snape played the music got gradually louder, echoing off the walls around the room. It was...light. Harry closed his eyes and could see the dawn. His breath caught in his throat, unaccustomed to this experience. He could feel the morning dew on the grass; feel the press of fog against his face. He inhaled deeply as the music swept through him, filling him. Emotions ran through him indistinguishable from one another: love, hate, pain, sadness, relief. This...he wondered if Snape felt the relief, felt like he was starting over again as well.

His easy sigh was eaten by the swelling music and all the feelings he felt collided and tumbled within him and resolved into peace. He didn't understand how that was possible, how after feeling so many things it could all culminate into a blissful peace. The knowledge that everything was right in the world. All the suspicion and doubt was chased from his mind by the melodic tune.

As the music got softer, Harry dared to open his eyes again and observe Snape's relaxed features. The melody dwindled away as Snape played the final note and held it .

When the last note died, Snape's eyes opened to meet Harry's curious gaze. For a few moments, while their eyes were locked, the connection between them was as real and as deep as the darkest waters of the sea.

It took tremendous physical effort for Snape to break eye contact with Harry, but even as he turned his back to him the connection was still there, humming between them. He could sense Potter getting up and hovering behind him as if he could see him, and then the feeling left. The door to his office opened and closed with a soft click.

Snape placed his violin in the case, closing it gently before bracing his hands on the desk. Head bent, he stared at the worn, leather case. It was both his bane and his salvation, much like the young man who had just left the room.

Sighing, he took the case by the handle and exited through the same door Potter had used, making his way to his quarters.

Once inside, he started a fire in the hearth and considered having a drink, but he was afraid that if he started drinking he wouldn't stop until he was numb.

Severus Snape was a man accustomed to having iron-fist control over his emotions. Even as he played, he was always in control of the music. At least, he had been until recently. Now, every time he picked up his bow he was aware that he had an audience of one listening to every note, even if he were half a castle away.

Snape leaned his head back and stared at the darkened ceiling, searching the shadows for answers he had thus far refused to acknowledge.

He could have stopped this before it had gotten this far. There were ways to break the new and tenuous connection between them, but he hadn't done it. Instead, he did things he knew would make the bond stronger, would draw Harry to him. And now, it was too late, for both of them.

Snape could lie to himself for only so long, and after tonight that was no longer possible. The boy was in his thrall, and Snape wanted it that way. He felt whole, content for the first time in his life. But he knew it wouldn't last, it seldom did.

His life was tied to the water, but Potter's was not. Snape would teach him to play, he had no choice anymore. The magic of his kind would allow Potter to play like few other humans alive, Muggle or wizard. And it would also grant Potter his freedom. When he could play for himself, he would have no more use for Snape.

He would still be bound to Harry, but Harry would not be bound to him. The thrall would lose its potent affect, and the ties holding him would be gone. And when Harry left he would take part of Snape's soul with him, leaving in its place an empty, cavernous hole.

Unfortunately, there was no guarantee that Potter would fall in love and stay with him forever. The odds in favour were slim to none; Snape wasn't going to lie to himself about that. But for at least a few months in his life he would feel whole, complete.

That would have to be enough.

~*~

Harry's sedate walk could only be a result of the last hour spent with Snape. How was he to know Snape could make him feel that content? Who could have guessed Snape could relax? Harry's mind spun at all the various inconsistencies in his mind. The complete calm he was experiencing with the world clashed against the thinly veiled threats he was encountering everywhere he turned.

First Hermione, then Dumbledore, the Merpeople's ominous watching, Hogwarts' sudden cold shoulder, the scowling portraits lining the walls, the extra angry shoves he'd been receiving from Malfoy, although those might not have anything to do with his new situation, yet at some level he knew it was the only thing it could be. He'd never found himself shoved roughly up against a wall so many times before this past week.

There was something they all knew and weren't telling him. Or, maybe they had and he just hadn't heard it. But what would they want to keep from him? Why would they hide something from him when it would obviously affect Snape more?

Harry felt his good mood morphing into confusion and distress. They had all been so disappointed in him, even Ron, in his own way, had been showing his disappointment in the way he acted around Harry.

What did they fear telling him?

If this situation were normal, he knew that at least Hermione would have been upfront with him. She wouldn't have withheld information from him.

He changed his course and headed back towards the library. There had to be something he was missing. Something in those books that he'd overlooked. He knew he had only done the bare minimum for research in the first place, and had completely forgone the stories about Nixes. Perhaps what he was looking for was in there, but he didn't think so.

Maybe he'd owl Mrs. Weasley and ask her for the stories she told Ron as a child. That would be a more direct approach, but Harry didn't think he'd find the answer he needed there. No, whatever it was everyone was hiding from him, it was bigger than all that. It had something to do with Snape himself, not with Harry.

He licked his dry lips as he entered the vaulted library and headed back to the section he had practically lived in a week ago. None of the books would be missing when he got there. The names on their inside covers weren't recognizable to him at all and the dates told him that none of the books had been checked out in ages.

However, he couldn't be looking in the right books, for surely Snape himself would want to learn more about himself, about his own nature. Harry sighed, pulling out the thick book of "first hand" accounts of interaction with magical creatures. The very idea of a book of accounts sounded a bit bogus to him, like children's fairy tales, but even fairy tales have some basis in truth.

He took the large, heavy book and set it on the table by the window and situated himself so he was kneeling on the chair. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned the book to the index. He ran his finger down the page, looking for the "N's".

It took him a couple of seconds to find the page he was looking for and he flipped the book back to the beginning. He nudged his thumbnail under a page about a quarter of the way into the book.

He bit his lower lip as his eyes scanned the familiar introduction paragraphs. None of it was new to him anymore, but continued skimming it hoping he'd gain a new insight in the three short paragraphs.

With a sigh he settled in to read the stories.

The first one didn't seem very important, because it was short. Harry contemplated skipping it at first and going on to the next one, but decided that he couldn't afford to skip over anything at all, no matter how insignificant it appeared.

#### THE PEASANT AND THE WATER-MAN

 _A WATER-MAN once lived on good terms with a peasant who dwelt not far from his lake. He often visited him, and at last begged that the peasant would visit him in his house under the water. The peasant consented, and went down with him. There was everything down under the water as in a stately palace on the land – halls, chambers, and cabinets, with costly furniture of every description._

 _The Water-man led his guest over the whole, and showed him everything that was in it. They came at length to a little chamber, where were standing several new pots turned upside down. The peasant asked what was in them. "They contain," was the reply, "the souls of drowned people, which I put under the pots and keep them close, so that they cannot get away." The peasant made no remark, and he came up again on the land. But for a long time the affair of the souls continued to give him great trouble, and he watched to find when the Water-man should be from home._

 _When this occurred, as he had marked the right way down, he descended into the water-house, and, having made out the little chamber, he turned up all the pots one after another, and immediately the souls of the drowned people ascended out of the water, and recovered their liberty._

Harry's lethargic blink was the only indication that he had actually comprehended any of that. The very idea that Snape was hiding souls under pots and pans was absurd, but he couldn't dismiss it out of hand. Just because it sounded stupid as all fuck, didn't mean it wasn't true.

He sighed, pushing his wire frame glasses up the bridge of his nose once again. That wasn't what he was looking for. It was weird, but not ominous, and it didn't have anything in particular to do with him or Snape. He was beginning to feel frustrated with the entire ridiculous ordeal. Perhaps if someone had just told him upfront why offering gifts to Snape was a bad idea in the first place, maybe he wouldn't have done it. He wasn't completely thick. He could string two and two together and get four!

He scrubbed his face and stared back down at the text before him. There was no point in reading more of this. He shut the book with a dull thud and pushed his chair out from the table. Madam Pince would shelve it later.

All he wanted to do now was go back up to his room and crawl into bed and sleep. He no longer wished to think about Snape and his own fucked-up life.

With the demise of Voldemort, he had hoped his life would have gone back to normal. He hadn't counted on Snape getting under his skin and consuming his life.

He left the dimly lit library at the same sedate pace as he entered, only this time his footsteps were slowed by heavy thoughts and discouraging looks. In a childish fit, he stuck his tongue out at a portrait of an old man in a rocking chair.

The man looked at him, scandalized, and Harry felt vindicated. It seemed that the castle could hate him all it wanted, but he could still shock the hell out of it. If he decided to do something life threatening, he wondered, would the castle react like it was supposed to?

One day he'd try to ask Snape what was going on, and maybe he'd finally figure out why the entire castle despised him.

 **  
  
**   
_  
**Chapter Eight**   
_

Ron glanced up from his textbook and caught Harry with that faraway look in his eyes – the one that seemed to take him over at the oddest times. Ron had stopped trying to bring him out of his stupor, since it usually ended up with Harry biting his head off. Then Harry would feel guilty for snapping, and would spend the next hour being overly attentive.

Either way, Ron felt odd, as though his best friend was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Every night, Harry was down in the dungeons with Snape, learning to play the violin, and Ron never knew what mood he'd be in when he got back. One day he'd be as content as a kitten in front of the fire. The next, he'd be on edge and frustrated, snapping at everyone and everything. Both moods were equally disturbing to Ron.

Through all the years they had known each other, even during the worst part of the war, Harry had still been Harry. Ron wasn't sure who his friend was anymore, and it had only been a week. What would he be like in a month? Or a year? Would he recognize him at all?

Ron watched Harry blink a few times and shake his head, as if clearing whatever was distracting him from his mind. He smiled sheepishly at Ron. "Sorry, were you saying something?"

Ron shook his head, smiling sadly. "I guess you'll be going to see Snape tonight," Ron said, a statement more than a question.

Harry closed his book. "No, he's supervising a detention tonight so I can't go until tomorrow."

Ron couldn't help but notice the wistful tone in Harry's voice and found himself irritated. "Must be hard having to spend a few hours with your friends instead," Ron groused.

Harry frowned. "It's not like that," he said defensively. "I just...Ron, I can't help it."

Ron just looked at Harry and shrugged.

"Look, in a few months it'll be better. I don't know what Snape's doing exactly, but everything is coming easier to me now. I think it's because he accepted my gift, and that allows him to share some of his magic with me, letting me learn to play faster. The books aren't very clear on it, and he doesn't talk about it much, I've just kind of worked that out on my own.

Just give it a few months, and things will be back to normal, I promise," Harry said, his eyes pleading with Ron.

Ron knew that Harry really believed that, but he didn't think that things would turn out quite like that. He and Hermione had been talking about it, and she was still finding bits and pieces of information about Nix. They didn't think Harry would ever be the same again, a part of him belonged to Snape now, whether Harry realized it or not. Hermione was afraid Harry would never be whole if he just walked away, even when he could play the music for himself.

"Yeah, sure mate," Ron said, forcing a smile. "Feel like getting your arse kicked in chess?"

~*~

Draco Malfoy knew his place in the halls of Hogwarts. He knew he was supposed to act with the grace and dignity the Malfoy name bestowed upon him, but the Golden Trio got under his skin in ways he couldn't begin to explain and had since day one. He gripped his quill firmly between his fingers and began to scratch out a note to his parents telling them about the big happenings at school. They practically required a letter from him once a week, or else they would become frantic.

Draco Malfoy knew his place in his family as well. He knew that when a family member's life was being threatened, he needed to act. Severus Snape, Potions Master and Professor at Hogwarts, was part of his family. He loved his godfather very much and that was why, when he was told what Potter had done he had seen red. He had grown up with the knowledge that his godfather was not entirely human. When he was younger he'd even had a chance to see Snape's true form but he had never thought that anyone else would stumble over that knowledge. Especially not the Boy Who Lived.

How dare the little half-blood threaten his godfather's life in such a way? He bet the stupid prick didn't even know what he had done. It would be so like Potter to do things half-arsed and not give a passing thought to the consequences. He had the sneaking suspicion the tosser didn't even know what could happen to Snape if he chose to just walk off.

It was bad enough that Snape had told him that the charm he'd given Draco when he entered Hogwarts may be needed soon. Draco couldn't recall a time before now that his godfather had feared he would be in the lake for that long. It put him in charge of his own house and the weight of that responsibility was starting to wear on him.

Every part of him told him he had to save his godfather and Head of House in any way possible, even if it meant bullying Potter into staying. The only problem was that he didn't know how to go about doing so. Instead, he had taken up the rather undignified habit of shoving Potter into every available wall, tree, sink, railing, and large person; it really didn't matter, so long as he got the satisfaction of knowing Potter was every bit as miserable as Snape was.

"Potter!" he hollered, when the Gryffindor exited Snape's office, violin case in hand. He sneered at the sight, wanting to throw up. If Potter was good enough to be let out of Snape's office with violin in hand, it meant his time was running short.

He did not like this at all.

Potter turned on the stairs with an exasperated expression, but Draco could still see a speck of pleasure and contentment behind the contempt. He needed to rid him of it. If Potter thought he could get away with hurting Snape and not feel some pain himself, he was sorely mistaken.

It had been almost a month since Snape had pulled him aside and told him what had happened. At first he had thought it was a joke, good for a laugh, just to shake him up a bit. His laughter had faded quickly when Snape had told him the circumstances and what they meant.

It all came back to Potter.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

At least Potter sounded tired, that at least made him feel better. "You're in my way."

"Oh please, not again."

Draco felt inordinately pleased with himself as he brushed by Potter and shouldered him into the slimy wall.

"Have a nice night, Scarhead!"

Draco certainly knew he'd be having one.

~*~

Hermione had been watching them both closely, but whether they noticed it or not was up for debate. She knew she had the most objective view of their relationship, just because Harry seemed to have found a confidant in her. It was she that he ran to when Snape was being unusually callous, and it was she who found out when he was happy.

However, she was trying to get a handle on Snape's position on how things were going. Harry's reports recently had all been positive, but it was difficult to tell with Snape. The man, unlike Harry, did not wear his emotions on his sleeve and that made it painfully hard for her to tell if her friend was setting himself up for heartbreak; if Snape felt nothing at all for him, Harry deserved to know.

She had discussed this with Dumbledore more than once during the month, and he had always been vague about what he knew.

Hermione got the feeling that he didn't know any more than she did, and that was disheartening.

Snape's life hung in the balance, but so did Harry's sanity and it was a dangerous rope the two were walking on: if it snapped there could be a catastrophe. She didn’t like the thought of her best friend going insane from the need to play and hear the music, but she didn’t want him under Snape’s thrall, no matter what she told the boys. She didn’t entirely trust all of Snape’s intentions, especially when they were directed at Harry.

As far as she could see, their professor had been nothing but cold to Harry since the entire ordeal began. There was no change in their relationship outside of the nightly practices. Her only consolation was that Snape wasn’t invading his mind anymore and what they were doing would supposedly have a mutual benefit. She had heard Harry’s playing and had marveled at how fast he had managed to learn how to play. It was ethereal, the notes that drifted down the steps of the boys' dorm in the early evening, and she wasn’t the only one who had to stop what she was doing to listen. One time, there had been a cluster of first years sitting right on the steps blocking anyone’s progress up or down, but the delighted expression on their faces told her all that she needed to know.

Harry was learning, and had been changing right beneath her nose. Ron had mentioned a few nights ago that they seemed to be losing Harry, but she wasn't so sure that was what was going on. Harry seemed more present with them after he left practice with Snape, but Ron was rarely around to see it. He only caught Harry when he was daydreaming, something that was good to see. Hermione could recall a time when all of Harry's thoughts had been directed to those who were dying around them, to the battle and the war. Now, his expression was softer, his demeanor much more playful, and she felt like her Harry was returning. The one she had known from first year whose thoughts were constantly on life.

Trying to explain Harry's time with Snape had been hard, but after a week of quiet observation, Ron seemed to notice all of Harry's changes in a positive light as well. It was rare to see Harry crying now, and Ron even admitted that if Harry was having nightmares anymore it was no longer noticeable.

Hermione knew Ron was feeling lonely, and while she tried to fill the Harry-sized void in his life, she knew that she'd have to take initiative and plan a night where it was just the three of them hanging out in the common room. A Snape-free night, just for Ron. She doubted Harry even knew how his separation from Ron was affecting him; he had never been one to notice things like that before.

"Hey, Hermione." Harry sat down on the couch next to her and kissed her cheek.

She blushed and pushed him away in a playful manner. "It's stunts like this that cause all those rumors about our torrid romance."

Harry pouted and fluttered his eyelashes, and Hermione sighed. "Come here, you tool," she muttered, kissing his forehead. He grinned and flopped back against the couch with a contented sigh.

Hermione fingered the pillow on her lap. "How'd it go?"

"Snape didn't kick me out, I think we're making progress; but honestly, Hermione, I don't know how to explain it, but being in the Dungeons with Snape, it's...a safe feeling, I guess."

She hummed and then, with a devious smirk, smacked his stomach with the gold tasseled throw pillow. So long as he was happy, she was happy; and she supposed that was all that really mattered in the long run.

##    
_  
**Chapter Nine**   
_   


Harry held the old, battered violin case to his chest as he raced towards Snape's office. A month ago that day, he had offered the gifts to Snape. He knew exactly what to expect when he opened the office door and he knew what he was supposed to do upon entering. But tonight, seeing that it was of some importance to Harry, he decided to not do what he always did.

His expectations were clear-cut and precise. The moment he entered, he was supposed to go straight into the other room and get his instrument out. Next, he was to tune the instrument and fix any other problems that occurred, and then he was to go over his scales until he thought his wrist would snap. Only then would Snape come in and start to teach him a new piece. It was hard work, but Harry realized that it was paying off in the end. He was getting better, if the dazed looks he got from his friends were any indication.

Harry arrived at Snape's office and knocked twice on the door. He entered uninvited and without hesitation. He hovered in the doorway, observing Snape hunched over his desk while he scrawled something furiously. Instead of heading straight into the practice room as he was supposed to do, he walked up to Snape's desk and laid the instrument before him. When Snape looked up with a scowl, Harry smiled.

"Can we talk tonight?"

"Talk?" Snape asked, his scowl turning to a look of confusion. He lay his quill down on the desk. "About?"

Harry gripped the edge of the desk. If Snape said no this time, he didn't know what he'd do. "About what I did."

Snape's scowl returned as looked Harry over, considering his options. He'd put the boy off a number of times, but he had the feeling he wouldn't be so easily cowed tonight. The more worrisome thought was that he had no real desire to say no.

He pushed back from the desk and stood, nodding curtly. "Come," he said, leading Harry through the room they normally used and into another room which appeared to be a small sitting room.

Snape sat in his usual chair and crossed his arms, feeling vulnerable, and therefore defensive. "What is it?"

"Why does everyone suddenly hate me? The entire castle seems to have developed a grudge against me and nothing I've read is giving me any clue as to why."

Snape considered the question, as it had no easy answers. "I have a certain connection with the castle, and you have altered that connection. It will get over it. What makes you think everyone hates you?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, let's see. The stairs always move with me on it. The portraits scowl at me as I walk past. Sometimes doors are locked that aren't normally. I seem to be tripping more often than not, don't you dare laugh!" he shouted, horrified to see Snape's lips curling into a look of amusement. "Dumbledore is disappointed in me, as is Hermione, and Ron keeps looking at me like I grew a second head."

"You won't grow a second head for at least another three months," Snape said dismissively.

"What?!" Harry yelped, his eyes going wide.

Snape couldn't help but smirk. "Did you not get that far in the books?" he asked mildly.

Harry flushed. "You are a mean man," he grumbled, feeling his face heat again. He swore he blushed more now than he ever did when he was younger.

"I have never denied it," Snape said, relaxing a bit. "I'm sure they are merely concerned that you did something with life-altering consequences without giving the least bit of thought to the ramifications, or how they would affect others."

"Perhaps I wouldn't have if they had actually told me why it would be bad." Harry frowned, knowing he was whining, but he didn't care. He had no one else to whine to.

"Potter, you've entered into a magical contract with a creature you know next to nothing about," Snape said, looking at him as if he were daft. "Have you any idea the things I could do to you should I so desire it? Or even worse," his voice dropped to a whisper, "what you could do to me?"

Harry shook his head. "Why do you think I've been going to the library every night after our meetings?" he asked. "Because I wanted to know, and guess what? Not a single damn book in there had any information that I didn't already know."

Snape stared at the wall over Harry's shoulder for nearly a minute before meeting Harry's gaze. "Do you know how it is you are able to learn so quickly? Why it is coming so easily?"

Harry shook his head.

"When I accepted your offering, we entered into a magical contract. I teach you to play, and you don't go insane for the need of it. When my part of the bargain is fulfilled, you may leave and go about your life." Snape stopped for a moment, weighing whether to tell him the rest or not. He closed his eyes. "However, when you go, you will take a part of my soul with you. If I were to go with you, the part of me that belongs with the water will ache to return. There is no way this can end well for me." At least no way that I'm willing to tell you.

Harry swallowed hard. "But...then why did no one tell me before? They all would have let me leave and I never would have known."

"Because you need to leave. Staying here would be a waste of your life," Snape said, as if it were a given.

"Yeah, but what about you?" Harry asked.

Snape shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Was that all you wished to speak about?"

"No," Harry replied, pulling his thoughts back together. "The stories, are any of them true?"

"You'll have to be more specific, as I have no idea what sources you have been gleaning your information from," Snape said, pleased the subject had been changed.

"There was a story," Harry said, feeling embarrassed for even mentioning it. "I think it's complete rubbish mind you, but it said you trap souls under pots and pans."

Snape laughed. He couldn't help it. He had heard those stories of course, but never gave them a second thought. It wasn't the souls of the humans who were in danger. "Yes, it's complete rubbish," Snape agreed, amused. "I'll give you a book with more accurate information if you're truly interested."

"Yes," Harry said a bit too fast. He grinned sheepishly, and added a "please?"

"Wait here," Snape said, leaving the room through another door. When he returned a few minutes later, he handed Harry an old, worn book.

"I expect it returned in the same condition," he said, resuming his seat.

"What slightly damaged?" Harry teased, even as he reverently ran a finger along the spine.

Snape arched a brow in Harry's direction. "Old and well read," Snape corrected. "It's too bad I cannot teach you an appreciation for books as well as music."

"I like books well enough, just not ones that are big, heavy and take forever to read."

Snape rolled his eyes. "To which your grades would attest."

"Yeah, well...enough about me. What about you? Why did you agree in the first place?"

"The compulsion was strong and I chose to stop fighting it," Snape said, which was as close to the truth as he would come.

"Compulsion, sir?" Harry queried, his brow creased in thought. "But, I thought--no, never mind." He clapped his hands and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "May I ask one more question?"

"Yes, you may," Snape answered, hoping it wasn't another loaded question.

"What's it like?" he asked. "To be underwater. What's it like down there? Is it nice?"

Snape was unaware of the dreamy smile that came upon his face as he thought of the water. "It is the one place I can go to feel human." He looked at Harry, frowning. "It's odd to think I feel human in the water and not here," he said, waving his had vaguely around the room. "When this world becomes too much, and the music isn't helping to ease the constant ache, I return to the water. It is like coming home.”

"Could you take me?" Harry asked, wishing he had a camera to capture the wistful expression on Snape's face. "Is it possible?"

Snape's head tilted to the side as he studied Harry. "Yes, it's possible in many different ways." He did not say, Some of them as permanent as death itself. "Did you respond well to gilly weed?"

"I didn't die, if that's what you mean."

Snape was nodding slowly as he ran a finger along his bottom lip, thinking. "Yes, I can take you. But you'll have to get permission from the Headmaster, and I'm not sure what his stand is on the situation at the moment. Last he was here, I asked him to leave," he said, smirking at Harry.

"And he did?" Harry laughed, but it died rather quickly. "He's going to say no. There's no way he'd say yes."

"Even the Headmaster must acknowledge that there are events in motion that he has no power to stop," Snape said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Taking you into the water is one of those things that is inevitable I'm afraid."

"Then why do I need permission? Why can't we go now?"

"For one, it's dark outside, the water would be nearly black, and you have not the eyesight to see. No, if you wish to do this, we'll go during the day. Draco can watch over things on the shore so that we are not bothered," he said, watching for Harry's reaction to the mention of Draco.

"So he does know then. I had wondered. There are only so many times I can get pushed into a wall."

Snape frowned. "He's been bothering you?"

"Not bothering so much as threatening me. I've gotten used to it. It's just nice that there's a reason for it and I won't be bloodying his face for no reason."

Snape ground his teeth together in irritation. "I will speak with Draco and put an end to it," he said, his voice harsh and cold.

Harry blinked. "It's okay. Me and my shoulder will survive."

"No, Potter, it is not okay, and I will not tolerate him causing harm to my- I will not allow it and Draco needs to know that," Snape said harshly.

Harry couldn't refute that. He didn't know how to even if he wanted to. Snape would get his way, it wasn't like he could exactly stop him. "All right, then."

Snape relaxed when Harry agreed. He knew his godson was merely worried for him, but Draco would not take that out on Harry, or he would find himself in a very bad way.

"Sir?"

"Yes?" Snape answered tiredly.

Harry picked up the book Snape was lending him and stood. "Goodnight."

Snape frowned. "Harry, you were about to say something, just say it."

"You just called me, Harry," he pointed out in shock.

"It is your name," Snape said, scowling at the slip up. "What were you trying say?"

"It's stupid." Harry bit his lip, fingering the slim book in his hands.

"No doubt but spit it out anyway."

"My arm has been really sore and it's giving me grief when I'm trying to hold my violin. So, I was wondering if you could possibly rub some of that oil into my arm again," he said in a rush. He bowed his head and bit his lip. "It's so stupid. I'll just leave."

Snape didn't give it a second thought. "Remove your shirt, I'll get the balm," he said, going to the other room and returning with a small bottle.

Harry hastily shed his shirt in anticipation. He'd never admit that this scene had been playing in his head every night in his sleep. The pressure from Snape's hands moving from his arms, down his chest, and then lower.

 _Fuck!_ He made it a point to not meet Snape's gaze as the man neared him. He couldn't know how his body reacted to him.

It wasn't normal.

Snape rubbed his hands together, warming the salve. When he began to apply it, he noticed the flush moving up Harry's body.

Moving eyes lower, he saw that Harry was trying to hide his erection.

 _Interesting._

Snape took his time, massaging Harry's arm until it hung there limply. Instead of stopping, he moved out behind him, massaging across Harry's shoulder, his moans sending licks of pleasure to Snape's groin. He should stop now, but found he didn't want to. For once, he was going to allow himself to enjoy the moment as he began moving down Harry's back.

Harry's eyes fell shut and his head hung limp against his chest as Snape worked his hands down his body. This was so unfair, because he knew he'd have to stop him soon and he really didn't want it to en- but oh that feels nice. He leaned back into the touch, reveling in the feeling of his back muscles loosening.

Snape began to hum a low and sensual melody.

His hands moved up Harry neck, massaging away the tension. He pulled Harry's head back so that it was resting on his own chest. With Harry watching him through hooded eyelids, Snape moved the massage to the temples of Harry's head. Neither was inclined to look away, and Snape wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss him, but he was afraid of ruining a nice moment.

Snape was looking at him and humming. That was all he could think about. Blood pooled in his groin and he let out a soft whimper. He hadn't known about the humming, but Merlin he didn't want Snape to stop.

When Snape's hands slipped off his temples, Harry couldn't help the wistful sigh that escaped his lips. He had been so sure that Snape was going to, but no, he couldn't have been. He smiled in a drugged manner and pulled away.

"I've got to go," he murmured, bending over and picking up his shirt. He quickly shrugged it on and buttoned it up. "See you tomorrow?" he asked, trying to keep the hopeful tone down to a minimum.

"Yes, but I've got a detention from six to eight, so it will have to be after that," Snape said, feeling awkward now.

"You're condoning me being out of bed after curfew?" Harry teased, trying to lighten the mood in the room.

Snape smirked. "Yes, because I can take points as soon as you arrive."

"Oh so much incentive to come see you," Harry returned with a laugh. He saluted, with book in hand and an impish smile.

"Tomorrow then," he said, exiting the room.

"Tomorrow," Snape whispered, a sad smile on his face.

##    
_  
**Chapter Ten**   
_   


The library was quiet and empty except for the one lone occupant. He sat in a niche in the far back, his back was pressed against the cool stone of the castle wall and his head tipped to the side as he gazed out across the deserted grounds. One leg was draped off the edge of the windowsill-cum-bench; the other one was bent at the knee.

Harry Potter exhaled softly, fogging the large window. The small, worn, leather-bound book he had brought with him lay forgotten on his lap. The pads of his fingers caressed the chilled glass as he watched a man cross the grounds at a fast pace. He'd recognize that lengthy frame swathed in black anywhere. Green eyes followed the dark man across the dead grass towards the lake.

The man shed his winter cloak and dropped it to the ground. Harry could see the man look about him before he swan-dived into the semi-frozen water. He swallowed as he observed Snape tread the water with an easy grace, undeterred by the cold.

Harry longed to be down there with him more than anything. There had been little hope of a positive answer when Snape had gone to ask permission for Harry to accompany him into the water, but even Harry hadn't anticipated the flat out rejection they'd received. It stung worse than the cold shoulder Ron had been giving him. He knew he was becoming obsessed, but he couldn't help it! Hermione kept looking at him with this deeply sympathetic look as if he were dying from some dreadful disease, and just once, he wished they'd all go back to the way they were.

He let his forehead hit the windowpane with a soft thud. His eyes remained glued to Snape's every move across the water. Why hadn't he dived under yet? He pulled back and swung his leg over the edge of the windowsill and jumped down to the floor.

Forget Dumbledore, forget them all, he was going to go into that lake whether they liked it or not. If they weren't going to give him at least five good reasons not to, then he saw no reason why he shouldn't take matters into his own hands.

Mind made up, he stuffed the book into his book bag and slung it over his shoulder. He only hoped Snape would remain on the surface of the lake.

A gust of cold air slapped him in the face as he exited the castle. Quickly he cast a warming charm on his cloak and bundled it around him. February had been so ridiculously cold, but with little snow. Many of the castle's inhabitants had been grumbling about this for weeks now, but Harry was grateful. He hurried down towards the lake, hoping no one would see him. If he got caught out now, he might never get another chance to convince Snape to take him into the lake.

He heard the soft splash of something cutting through the water of the lake and he grinned. Snape was still swimming on the surface. Harry's ridiculous smile refused to fade as he ran full tilt down the slope towards the water. He dropped his satchel on top of Snape's winter cloak, before racing to the water's edge.

There was Snape pacing the water, much like he paced the practice room while Harry went over his music diligently. It comforted him to see it in ways he couldn't explain.

"Snape!" he hollered, snickering when the man's head whipped in his direction and he lost momentum, momentarily dipping below the choppy surface.

Snape's head reappeared, this time much closer to the shore. When he emerged from the water, he was scowling angrily at Harry.

"What do you think you're doing?" Snape growled, using his wand to cast a See-Me-Not spell around them in case anyone happened to be looking out a window.

Harry's grin was unrepentant. "How do you do that? Come out of the water fully dressed and only a little wet?"

Snape blinked, caught off guard. A question about the state of his clothing was the last thing he expected. "It's a function of my kind, innate magic allowing us to come and go on land without dripping water everywhere. You didn't answer my question, Potter. Why are you here? You're not even wearing your blasted cloak!" he exclaimed, eyes scanning the distant castle.

Harry shrugged. "I was in the library and saw you here."

"So you chose to follow, despite the warnings of the Headmaster?" Snape said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We must return to the castle." He made a grab for Harry, who side-stepped him with a challenging stare.

"Why?"

"You can't be here," Snape growled. "The Headmaster has forbidden it. He's trying to protect you, you imbecile!"

"Why?" Harry snapped. "Why the hell does he get any say in this? It's not fair. All I want to do is see where you're happy, why is that such a big deal?"

"He's afraid if I take you down there I will not bring you back!" Snape shouted. "Ever!"

Harry blinked. "Would you do that?" he asked, meeting Snape's angry glare.

"No," Snape snarled, turning on his heel and walking away, only to turn back after three steps. "But I could! If I so desired I could lure you down with me, and you would never see the surface again!"

There was a loud silence between them as the words echoed around them. Harry exhaled shakily, looking out over the rough water, before looking back up at Snape. He took the extra two steps forward and placed his hand over Snape's clenched fist.

"Please, show me."

Snape wanted to show him his world, the world they could share if only...

"You must be certain?" he said, his voice cracking as he gripped Harry's shoulder tightly.

Harry nodded resolutely. "I am."

Snape glanced toward the castle and nodded, holding out his hand. When Harry took it, he began to murmur the incantation that would allow Harry to join him. He was intertwining his fate even more tightly with Harry, but he wanted to do it. The need to do so was almost overwhelming as the ancient magic settled around them.

Harry gasped at the curious sensation. It felt like a bucket of ice had been poured over his head. He looked up at Snape in curiosity. "What was that?"

"You'll be able to enter the water and have no need for air. This is only temporary," Snape emphasized. "Please do not ask me to make it permanent," he warned, looking intently at Harry.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmured, looking back out at the lake. He unclasped his school cloak with one hand and let it fall to the ground. The cold air returned with a vengeance and he took a step closer to the warm body beside him.

"You'll be warmer in the water," Snape told Harry as he shivered beside him. "It will be easier for me if I can change form once we're in the water. Will that bother you?" he asked, searching Harry's face.

Harry shook his head. He was curious to be certain, but he was so cold that even if it had mattered, he wouldn't have said no.

"Can we just go in now, please?" he begged, bouncing to keep warm. How long did it take to get frostbite when it was below freezing?

Snape took a deep breath, nodded and began walking into the water. "Breathe normally. You'll have to fight your instincts, but I promise you'll be fine."

Harry really didn't like the sound of that and he gripped Snape's hand tighter than necessary. His heart was racing as the frigid water lapped at his trouser-clad legs. Why were they going so slowly? This was miserable. If Snape was trying to prove a point, Harry didn't know what it was.

Finally they made it to where the land abruptly dropped off, without waiting for Snape's cue, Harry released the man's hand and dove under the surface, praying it would be warmer. He gasped, his mouth opened and flooded with cold water. Harry choked, grabbing at his throat as he clawed for something to propel him back up. Stupid! his mind screamed at him as he grabbed the nearest thing to him and that happened to be Snape's waist.

Snape cupped Harry's face, forcing him to look at him. "Breathe," Snape said, his voice sounding strangely harmonic under water. "You must breathe."

Harry gripped Snape's wrist in a frantic hold as he tried to inhale and exhale normally. His eyes were wide and wet with tears that were indistinguishable in the aquatic environment. It burned his chest as the water rapidly exited and entered his lungs. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sight of the surrounding water and just focus on regulating himself.

Snape's hand never left his cheek and he was so glad it didn't. He coughed a few times, choking up the remaining water. His body contorted in the water with each hack.

"Don't fight it, Harry," Snape said soothingly, his thumb rubbing lightly across Harry's cheek. "That's it, just breathe. I won't let anything happen to you, just breathe," he crooned, ignoring the curious stares of the Merpeople who had suddenly appeared.

Harry coughed a few more times before going still. He inhaled once, shaky and uncertain, before realizing he wasn't going to drown. His eyes opened slowly, his grip on Snape's wrist loosening but not letting go. He met Snape's concerned stare and felt his face flush with embarrassment.

Snape stroked his face one last time before taking Harry by the hand. "Can you see alright?" he asked curiously. He had never used the joining spell on anyone and was curious to know how it was affecting Harry.

Harry looked about him and realized everything was blurred. Curious, he took off his glasses, looked around him, and almost let go of them in shock. He could see, perfectly, in ways he couldn't even with his glasses on. He stared back at Snape in amazement.

"Y-yeah, I can."

Snape couldn't help but smile as Harry looked around without his glasses, his face full of wonder. "I'm going to change now," he warned and Harry nodded, watching him curiously.

Snape closed his eyes and his body began to change. His clothing and skin seem to meld together as his lower half began to elongate. Harry watched in fascination as his chest became bare, and his legs took on the form of a serpent, his scales shimmering, even in the darkened water.

When the change was complete, he looked at Harry, expecting to see revulsion or horror on his face.

He hadn't expected the sheer fascination on the boy's face.

"Can I?" Harry asked, his hand already reaching for the scaly tail. He bowed his head, his hand falling back to his side.

Snape curled his tail upward, closer to Harry. The boy's head shot up to look at him, excitement shining in his eyes as he reached out a hand to caress him.

The scales were smooth and not at all slimy like he had expected them to be. He trailed his fingers up and down Snape's tail, enjoying the sensation and the way the sun bouncing off the water reflected on the deep green scales, turning them all into different shades of green. He couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to.

"Beautiful," he whispered roughly, gazing back up at Snape in amazement. His face fell at Snape's shocked expression. He retracted his hand, hoping he hadn't overstepped his boundaries.

"Say that again."

"Say what?" Harry asked, his fingers already back at Snape's tail as if drawn there.

To say that Snape was stunned would have been an understatement. Never in his life had anything about him been deemed as beautiful. His hand once again cupped Harry's face, capturing his attention.

His gaze drifted from Harry's eyes to his lips, his thumb moving to caress his lower lip. There was nothing to stop him from tasting those lips, and Snape found himself being drawn forward. He hesitated a hair's breadth away, giving Harry a chance to pull back. In that instant, Harry was suddenly yanked downward. Growling, Snape dove after him to find a Grindylow holding tightly to Harry's leg.

His tail lashed out, knocking the Grindylow sideways. Snape hissed at him, teeth bared causing the Grindylow to dive for the safety of the greenery.

Harry gasped, his body trembling as Snape grabbed his shoulders. How could he have forgotten that they weren't alone? His pride was wounded. He should have been able to break the Grindylow's hold easily. He had been able to do it during the second task in his fourth year; it should have been even easier now. His arms went around Snape's waist before he could think about it, and he clung. His fingers dug into Snape's back and he knew his nails would be leaving little crescent shapes there.

The way Harry was clinging to him, Snape wondered if the boy were part Grindylow himself. He reached down to Harry's hand and gently opened his fingers. Harry was staring at him in a mixture of unease and embarrassment.

"I'll let no harm come to you," Snape promised, his voice like a low melody.

Harry nodded shakily. He knew it was true, but he had been so caught off guard, he had overreacted.

"I'm alright," Harry assured him, his body relaxing.

Snape smiled reassuringly and held out his hand. Harry grasped it, grinning widely. "Hold tight," Snape warned, and the two shot off through the water, Snape's tail propelling them faster and faster.

Harry felt the desire to whoop out loud. Emotionally, it was much like the first time he rode his broomstick; scary and exhilarating. Physically, the sensations couldn't be more different.

The underwater world was full of colors and creatures he hadn't had time to notice during his only other trip into the lake.

His eyesight was stunningly sharp and he could make out the details of the smallest things. The way the light and shadow played across the surfaces of plants and animals dazzled him. At turns he wanted to go slower and faster, shallower and deeper. He wanted to feel it all.

Snape watched Harry from the corner of his eye, still in awe of Harry's reaction to everything. He now understood Dumbledore's fears that he would not bring Harry back. In that moment, he wasn't sure that he could let him go. Snape could feel the joy radiating from Harry, the excitement. Why should they return? He could make the joining spell permanent, keeping Harry there with him beneath the surface for the rest of their lives. Harry would adjust eventually, would stop pining for the life he left behind. He was so happy now. Why couldn't it be like this always?

A Merman appeared in their path, shocking Snape out of his thoughts as they came to a stop. The Merman looked between the two of them curiously. "I have seen this human before," he said, studying Harry. "You have taken him as your mate?" he asked, looking at Snape, a small smile upon his face.

Snape's face darkened as he scowled at the Merman and said something in a language Harry didn't recognize. The Merman's countenance changed in an instant. He said something angrily in return, motioning to Harry and pointing upwards. Snape snarled something back, and the man pointed to Harry once again, the tone of his voice chilling Harry to the bone. Snape said nothing, and the creature turned and swayed away, disappearing into the dark depths of the lake.

"What just happened?" Harry asked nervously. Was Snape in trouble for bringing him down here?

Snape was still staring after the Merman. "It's time to go back," he said, and began to propel them along before Harry could protest.

Harry tugged on his hand. "Wait! Damn it, stop!" he cried. Snape slowed, but didn't stop.

"What the just happened back there?" he asked, wondering what was said between the two that had made everything turn so ugly.

"It doesn't matter," Snape replied, sounding weary.

Harry looked at him, dumbfounded. "How can you say that?" he asked, feeling as though he had been cut to the core.

Snape looked at Harry, regret showing plainly in his eyes. "Dumbledore was right, I never should have allowed this to happen," he said, guiding them to the underground tunnel that led to his chambers.

Snape returned to his human form in a matter of moments and the two stepped through a glowing green curtain of light. One minute they were underwater, and with the next step they were in the dry tunnel. The only evidence of their swim was a dampness around the cuffs of their trousers.

Harry ripped his hand out of Snape's hold with an angry scowl. "What the hell?"

Snape began walking, unable to look at Harry. "Cadmus merely reminded me what a fine line I was walking," he said, unable to tell Harry what he had been thinking while they were swimming together. That he had nearly convinced himself that keeping Harry down there with him would be alright; that they would both be happy there.

"Fine line," Harry muttered under his breath in confusion. He chased after Snape and grabbed his wrist forcing him to stop.

"Explain."

"Are you so thick you can't figure it out on your own, Potter?" Snape sneered, pulling from Harry's grasp. He needed Harry to leave so he could think straight. He stalked down the tunnel, robes billowing around him until he reached the door that led back to the castle. "I will teach you to play and then you will go away, is that understood?" he said, feeling as if a piece of his soul was being shattered.

"Yes, sir." Harry nodded stiffly and brushed by Snape at a hurried pace. His footsteps echoing about the tunnel as he went.

Snape leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, burying his face in his hands, cursing angrily into his palms. All of his instincts screamed at him to chase Harry down, mark him and make him his own. Take him to the water and never return.

Instead, he sat on the cold stone floor, wondering how he was going to survive this. As things stood, he didn't think that he would.

~*~

Harry was beyond angry as he marched up the stairs from the dungeons back into the main part of the castle. Just who did Snape think he was? He couldn't just turn on him like that. He hadn't even done anything this time! Harry wanted to hit something or hex someone, it didn't matter, he wanted to cause hurt in the worst way.

His saving grace was the violin tucked away in his trunk in his room, at least he knew his playing wouldn't enthrall anyone or cause heartbreak. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, but they never fell.

"Snorkleback Humptydink," he said, voice flat. The Fat Lady finally looked at him and of course it was in concern. He glared at her and she swung open with a sniff. Harry stepped through the portrait hole into the crowded common room.

Hermione looked up from her notes with a happy smile. "Harry, there you are!"

"Where else would I be," he sneered. He stalked past her ignoring the concerned calls after him as he stormed up the stairs to the seventh year boys' dorm. They knew better than to follow him. He snarled and shut the door behind him with a bang.

His hand lingered on the doorknob and he hit his head against the heavy wood door, his eyes wandering over the empty room.

Harry crossed the floor and dropped to his knees before his trunk. He flicked the latches and the lid popped open revealing the contents within. His violin rested in its case untouched since his last encounter with Snape. Opening the case, he picked it up with reverence. Anger still coursed through him unyielding in its need to destroy something.

Harry took up the bow and without thought struck a harsh chord. The discordant sound bounced around the room and died. His breathing became uneven and he squeezed his eyes shut, and, not even realizing he was doing so, started to play the song he had heard in the dungeons during break.

He collapsed to his knees, unaware of his surroundings, too caught up in his emotions and the need to purge them all until he was numb. He was sick of this mess, sick of the games, sick of not knowing if what he was doing was right or not.

He just wanted answers. He choked and his hand jerked, sending his bow flying across the room. It skittered across the floor and wound up under Ron's bed.

The violin fell from his fingers and clattered onto the floor. He stayed there frozen as he met Dumbledore's disappointed stare. Harry's eyes flicked over towards the door, but it was shut. How long had the headmaster been sitting there observing him? How much of his breakdown had he seen?

Harry stood, eyeing the old man warily. On Dumbledore's lap sat Harry's folded cloak and his book bag rested beside him.

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "The song was beautiful, if heartbreakingly sad," he said, smiling softly. "I found your items by the lake, and I thought you might be needing them."

Harry stepped forward, took the offered cloak and held it in a protective manner to his chest. "Thank you, sir," he mumbled, head bowed.

"I take it you ventured into the lake?" Dumbledore asked evenly.

Harry lifted his head, his earlier irritation returning slowly. "Yes."

Dumbledore looked at Harry, meeting his defiant stare. "You are of age and can make your own decisions, Harry, but as Headmaster of this school, it is my job to protect you. If need be, I can and will forbid you to see Professor Snape outside of your lessons. Do I need to do so?"

"You couldn't!" Harry cried, almost dropping his winter cloak in shock.

"I do not wish to do so," Dumbledore said, smiling sadly. "But you are my responsibility as long as you are a student at Hogwarts."

"But you aren't going to, are you?" he asked, panicked. "Are you?"

"Harry, I cannot forbid you to see him altogether, I can only limit your contact to potions class and your music lessons. I hadn't realized that you would go this far. I let your prior animosity with Professor Snape cloud my judgment, and for that, I am sorry."

Harry winced and looked back down at the floor, before tipping his head back and scanning the low ceiling as if it would give him any answers. The restrictions weren't that great; as a matter of fact they wouldn't change his pattern much at all, so then why did it still irk him?

"Is that all, sir?" he asked, finding no other words.

"No, there is one more thing, Harry, and this is not negotiable. You will stay away from the lake, and under no circumstances are you allowed to go anywhere near it with Professor Snape. Is that understood?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry noticed an edge to the Headmaster's voice, one he hadn't heard since the war.

"Yes, sir," he responded, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Dumbledore smiled and got to his feet. Harry couldn't help but notice that Dumbledore was moving more slowly, as if his age was finally catching up to him. "Then I shall be on my way," he said, smiling at Harry, his blue eyes a bit duller than usual. "Good night, Harry. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Professor."

Harry waited until the man had exited the door and shut it behind him, before turning back to his bed. He growled, picked his bag up off the bed, and then chucked it across the room violently, not even satisfied when parchment exploded out of it, littering the floor.

 **  
_Chapter Eleven_   
**

Snape stood at the top of the Astronomy Tower, watching the sun's rays peek above the horizon. He had spent a long, cold night atop the tower, as far from the water and his violin as he could get. In fact, he had placed his violin in a cabinet and magicked it closed for ten hours so that he wouldn't be tempted to pick it up.

He knew that if he picked it up, the music would call to Harry and the boy would have no choice but to heed it. Ice cold fingers dug into the parapet. He had been neglecting his potions, his House, and his duties, and that had to stop. He was going to have Draco meet with him after breakfast to make sure that he wasn't missing something brewing amongst his Slytherins. Then, he planned to spend the rest of the day in his lab, restocking the potions Poppy had requested days ago. He would send Potter a note to put him off until tomorrow; he needed time to gain his bearings. He had spent too much time during the last two months allowing his instincts to rule, and it was time to stop before Harry ended up at the bottom of the lake.

~*~

  
The book was propped in his lap; the crumpled note lay on the floor, forgotten. When he had received the letter, his first reaction had been to storm the dungeons and demand that Snape talk to him. He huffed as he flipped through the pages of the book. Answers, that was all he wanted, and this book wasn't telling him much more than he already knew.

He knew that in order for the Nix to be happy, they had to bond, but he had expected that to be a given. It still left him a little nervous that someday he'd have to do that with Snape. Merlin, they hadn't even kissed yet, and they were expected to...well, he wasn't entirely sure what they were expected to do. He knew how sex happened between guys and girls, but he'd never heard of it between two men.

On top of that, he'd managed to get from his friends the ramifications to himself of what he was doing, and while the prospect of insanity was as scary as hell, he didn't want to force his presence on Snape. That was what he didn't understand: why Snape kept teaching him, kept spending time with him. Nothing was set in stone for them, all he had to do was complete his lessons and this whole mess went away, in a manner of speaking.

What did Snape mean when he had said he'd be taking a piece of his soul? How did one just take someone else's soul? It sounded idiotic, even to him, but Snape had been so serious when he had said it that Harry knew he was telling the truth.

Rubbing his eyes, he was all for closing the book and letting it go the way of the note when something caught his eye.

He squinted at the small text and brought the book up off his lap as his eyes scanned the text. This is what he had been looking for, the reason that Snape had been so hot and cold with him. He felt bile rise up his throat as he read the short and very informative passage.

This was what Hermione hadn't wanted to tell him, what Dumbledore couldn't say, what Snape refused to speak of. Ron had been right, wasn't that a laugh? Of all the things Ron had to have been right about, it was this! Why hadn't they told him this could happen? He didn't want Snape to die! He didn't want the man to die because of his foolishness! Why hadn't anyone told him before? If he had known he never would have... It didn't matter now in any case, but he wouldn't have brought Snape those gifts.

He shut the book with a snap and swung his legs off his bed. Harry didn't care that it was nearing midnight or that Snape might be sleeping. It didn't matter that Dumbledore had forbidden him from seeing Snape outside of class and lessons. They needed to talk, and now.

He donned a robe and tied it off, slipping his feet into his threadbare slippers. He crept quietly around his bed so that he didn't wake up his roommates and opened the lid of his trunk. The shimmering cloth sat waiting just below his violin and he picked it up. He also grabbed the Marauder's Map as an afterthought.

Harry stole out of the room and down the stairs unchallenged, his heart beating rapidly. No one was in the common room either; he swung the cloak over his shoulders and pulled it up over his head, adjusting it so that his feet weren't showing.

His thoughts were jumbled and confused as he made his way steadily towards the dungeons. Why hadn't anyone told him before, damn it! It was just completely unfair of them to think he'd just automatically know why what he'd done was so damned wrong. Not even Snape himself had fully explained what could happen to him.

Harry gritted his teeth and pulled out the map, quietly reciting the activation. His eyes scanned the large map, determined to find the name that had been on his mind non-stop since the end of December.

Finally, he spotted him walking along the corridor, right towards him at a rapid pace. When Snape's dot was almost on top of him, Harry's eyes flickered up and he almost fell on his ass. Snape was bearing down on him, and it looked like he had no intention of stopping. Quickly, he took off his cloak and the silky material slid off, over his head, and landed in a pool at his feet.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew. Return to your dormitory at once or you'll spend detention with Filch," Snape said, barely able to look Harry in the eye.

"I don't care," Harry gritted out, pushing the book Snape had let him borrow back into the man's hands with force.

Snape scowled down at the book. "Twenty more points for insubordination," he growled. "And if I find this to be damaged in any way..." he added, flipping through the book.

Harry folded his arms and glared. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Snape sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you talking about?" he growled through clenched teeth.

Harry grabbed the book back and flipped through it aggressively, all the anger he had felt the previous day welling up within him. He finally found the page he wanted, turned the book around and pointed to the paragraph he had just read. Another thought about the stupidity of the editors of the book making that section so damned small crossed his mind as he waited impatiently for Snape to read.

"That! Why didn't anyone say anything?"

Snape merely glanced at the page before answering. "Because it's irrelevant." He shrugged. "Return to your dormitory, Potter," he said, walking away.

"It most certainly isn't, and I won't," Harry shouted, stalking after Snape. He latched onto Snape's wrist and forced him to stop.

Snape looked at Harry, expressionless. "Do not make this harder than it needs to be."

"I—" Harry froze. He looked over his shoulder in fear. Someone was coming down the steps. The distinct tap of footsteps could be heard all the way down the drafty dungeon corridor. He released Snape and backpedaled to where he had dropped his cloak. He picked it up and put it back on, sending one last irritated glare at Snape before he disappeared from sight.

His stomach sank to his shoes when a very familiar face appeared at the bottom of the dimly lit stairwell. He knew he was caught, and he wasn't sure whether to just take the cloak off now, or pretend that Dumbledore couldn't see him in the shadows. Suddenly, all the fight had left him and he just wanted to sleep away his discoveries. He didn't want another chat with the venerated headmaster. Maybe if he didn't acknowledge Dumbledore, the old man would just let him go to bed. He walked slowly towards the headmaster and their eyes met for a fleeting second, but he wasn't stopped. Relief flooded through him and he headed up the stairs at a faster pace, his bed calling for him.

"Points have been taken," Snape told Dumbledore in lieu of greeting. "If you'll excuse me," he said, attempting to brush past the old man.

"I'll walk with you," Dumbledore commented smoothly, falling into step with Snape.

Snape's hands clenched in irritation. "As you wish."

"I didn't wish to disturb you in your lab today," he said easily. "How are you feeling, Severus?"

Snape came to a stop, facing Dumbledore directly. "If there is something you wish to say, Albus, just say it."

"I was informed that Harry joined you in the lake yesterday," Dumbledore said, eying Snape shrewdly.

"Spying on me, Albus?" Snape asked irritably.

"No, Severus. Cadmus was concerned. He said the joining was only temporary, is that true?"

"Potter is not bound to me, if that is what you're asking. Soon our lessons will be done, and he will be free of me completely. Is there anything else, Headmaster?"

"Are you certain he will find it so easy to walk away?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"He has no choice," Snape growled.

Dumbledore smiled. "I think you are now the one who is underestimating young Mister Potter."

Snape sighed.

"There is another option, Severus," Dumbledore reminded.

Snape snorted. "An option that is not open to me, Albus," Snape scoffed.

"As I said, I think you're underestimating Harry's will to make things right."

Snape looked askance at Dumbledore. "You would really wish that on the boy?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "In a perfect world, no, I would not. But this is not a perfect world, and I care about both of you."

Snape snorted. "If you'll excuse me, Headmaster," Snape said, bowing slightly and walking away. "I need to have a word with Cadmus."

Dumbledore watched sadly as Snape disappeared into the shadows. His boys were in for a painful time of it, and this time there was nothing he could do to fix it. Dumbledore sighed, feeling every one of his many years. He should have paid better attention to what was happening, should have intervened sooner. Of all the things he should have done in his life, these were two that would haunt him for some time to come.

~*~

Snape's absence at breakfast didn't cause him any anxiety. As a matter of fact, Harry was glad the greasy git wasn't there. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to resist the urge to throttle his scrawny neck, public be damned.

No, he felt no remorse over it at all.

"Harry, eat something."

Harry blinked and realized he'd been pushing his eggs around for the past ten minutes. He offered Hermione a sheepish smile and popped a forkful of cold eggs into his mouth. She nodded approvingly and went back to her own meal, leaving Harry to his thoughts once again.

He knew without having to ask Dumbledore where Snape had disappeared. The bloody coward! He glared into his food, eating another few bites so that Hermione wouldn't have another go at him. It tasted like ash. He refused to feel guilt or believe that Snape went into the lake because of him. Well, when wasn't it about him now? Harry refused to believe that it was because he had cornered Snape the night before. It wasn't always his fault.

"Come on," Ron said, finishing off his pumpkin juice with a contented sigh. "A bunch of us are going to go into Hogsmeade today."

"But, we really should be stud-" Ron slapped a hand over Hermione's mouth and smiled at her.

"Ignore her, mate. You in or out?"

Harry dropped his fork and turned in his seat so that he was straddling the bench. "I'm in, anything to get out of here."

"Great!" Ron thumped him on the back and Harry jerked forward towards the table. "Seamus we've got another taker. You and Dean are still coming, right?"

"Course, wouldn't miss it. Just us boys. Right, Neville?"

Neville was caught off guard by the sudden question, but he managed to answer, "Y-yes. I'm going."

"Boys," Hermione muttered. "It's freezing out there, you'll all catch colds."

"Yes, Mum," they all chorused, Harry included. He ducked as Hermione swiped at his head.

"I hope you have fun," she said, but it wasn't as irritated sounding as it could have been. "I will not be responsible for five sick boys. It's bad enough taking care of you two Neanderthals, I don't need those three to worry about as well."

"We'll be good, Hermione," Ron said, giving her cheek a chaste kiss. "I'll bring you back a butterbeer."

"You'd better."

Ron nodded and stood, gesturing for his fellow housemates to stand as well. Harry made to stand when Hermione grabbed his sleeve. He fell back into his seat with a put-out expression.

"Hermione," he whined.

She searched his eyes and grinned sadly at him. "Don't do something stupid."

Harry rolled his eyes and the other boys snickered. "Why do you always assume I'll be the one to do something daft?"

"I don't always think you'll do something stupid. More times I think Ron will do something stupid and you'll follow him."

"Hey!"

"It's true, love," Hermione said with an exasperated smile. "Like just last week, when you—"

"Right, Hogsmeade," Ron declared, his face going bright red.

Harry laughed and stood up to join the rest of the boys. "We'll be good," he said, his smile dimming just a bit to make sure she got the message. He wasn't about to do something rash, like throw himself into the lake to drown. Hermione just nodded in acquiescence, not that she had been given much choice. With that settled, Harry caught up to Ron and the five of them left the Great Hall.

~*~

Harry dislodged himself from beneath Ron's arm and staggered sideways unnoticed by any of the other boys. Bloody fucking, stupid Snape, he had to ruin Harry's day out by invading his thoughts. A perfectly good day destroyed, although the Firewhisky had been a nice touch.

He stormed towards the lake, practically oozing agitation. If he was going to be in a piss poor mood, then Snape sure as hell better be too.

"Snape!" he shouted, leaning dangerously over the edge of the lake. He squinted his eyes as he scanned the surface for some disturbance and when he saw none, his anger hit a boiling point and he snapped. He grabbed a rock off the edge of the shore and clumsily chucked into the water.

"Fucking coward! Bloody fucking bastard!" He picked up another rock, this one jagged and bigger, and, with all his might, threw it into the lake. It made a loud splash. Completely unsatisfied, Harry looked around him in a drunken state and spotted a long, willowy stick. He picked it up and tested it with a few squishes, before winding up and chucking it out towards the water.

The wind had been picking up all afternoon and was raging around him, nearly causing him to stumble into the lake numerous times. The smell of rain hung heavily in the air, and a few droplets hit the top of Harry's head and the tip of his nose, but he ignored every warning of the impending storm. The thunderstorm could suck his dick for all he cared at the moment.

Blind with fury, he began throwing clods of dirt at the water. Why wouldn't Snape answer him? Why wouldn't he come to the surface? The slimy git could only ignore him for so long. In went another rock just as it started to pour.

"You can't hide down there forever you great greas-!"

A hand clamped over Harry's mouth stopping him mid-insult before he was roughly spun around. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" Snape hissed, eyes scanning the grounds for students.

"Me? What the bloody hell am I doing?" Harry asked incredulously. "You...you...you great stubborn bat!"

Snape could smell the whisky on Harry's breath and scowled.

"You're drunk!" Snape said incredulously.

"No shit!" Harry yelled, trying to stamp on Snape's foot but missing by a good two inches.

"How many points shall I take this time Potter? Ten? Twenty? Fifty?" he hissed.

"Take 'em all. I don't care!" Harry raged, his chest heaving. Tears were pricking the corner of his eyes again, and he was helpless when they began to fall and mix with the rain. "I don't care," he whispered.

Snape's scowl turned to a frown as Harry began to fall apart in front of him. "Why are you crying?" he asked, a sense of panic rising.

"I’m not crying," Harry denied, bowing his head and looking at the ground. Water pelted the back of his head and back, drenching him from head to foot. Thunder boomed loudly across the grounds and Harry could feel the hair on his arms stand on end.

The ice cold rain was soaking them through, and Snape could see Harry trembling. "Damn it, Potter," he growled, grabbing his arm and attempting to drag him back to the castle.

"No," Harry said, managing to wrench his arm out of Snape's tight grasp. "I'm not going in, not with you!"

He blinked as lightening flashed across the darkened sky, and he was blinded by it. Harry tilted his head back to look up at the ominous clouds, the wind whipping the water against his chin, stabbing him like a handful of needles.

"Fine, stay outside and freeze to death," Snape growled, storming away, only to turn right back around, getting in Harry's face. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, clutching Harry's arms tightly.

Harry dragged his gaze from the sky back to Snape's face, the drowsy feeling he had got from the alcohol washing away in the rain, leaving the world in too harsh a light.

"What do you mean?"

"I am not worth...this," he growled, motioning to Harry's frazzled state. "You've got to stop!"

"And if I don't? You'll what? Take all the points from Gryffindor and give me a month's worth of detention with Filch?" He had meant to sneer it, but it sounded hollow.

"What do you want from me?" Snape snapped as lightning split the sky.

"I don't know."

They were both beginning to shiver now, and Harry's lips were becoming tinged with blue. Snape knew that it was stupid and wrong, and that Albus would kill him, but he didn't care. At least they would be warm. He took Harry's hand and pulled him to the water, and when he looked at him with a slightly urging look, Harry nodded. Snape said the incantation and the two of them quickly disappeared beneath the surface.

Harry closed his eyes once they were completely submerged. His first trip still fresh in his mind, and he truly didn't fancy a repeat performance of that panic attack. His breathing stable, he chanced at opening his eyes and saw Snape staring at him with concern. It was like he was a completely different person underwater. Warmth slowly crept into his skin as if he were being wrapped in a warm blanket. He exhaled with a tremor, little air bubbles appeared before him and floated up towards the stormy surface.

"Why couldn't you have stayed in your bloody tower?" Snape asked irritably, but his hand was running a finger along Harry's lower lip, watching it turn pink as he warmed.

Harry's lips parted on their own accord and his brain refused to think beyond the finger tracing his lower lip.

"What do you want from me, Harry?" he asked again, forcing his gaze away from Harry's lips to his eyes.

"I don't know," he repeated quietly.

Snape removed Harry's glasses, closed his eyes, and pulled Harry to him, and the two slowly descended through the water. His instincts and his common sense were at war, and his instincts were beginning to take over.

Harry gazed up into Snape's face as they went down, deeper into the lake than he could remember going before. With no sunlight shining down on the surface, everything was cast into darkness, yet somehow Harry could see everything clearly.

As their feet hit the bottom of the lake, Harry tilted his head far back to find out if he could still see the surface, but he couldn't. It was just dark space above them and around them on all sides.

"Would you mind waiting here while I get a pot?" Snape asked quietly, remembering Harry's question days before.

Harry's gaze shot downwards so fast it was dizzying. "Get a what?"

Snape chuckled softly. "Worried?" he asked.

"Git," Harry grumbled, blushing.

Snape shook his head, smiling sadly. "That's the problem," he said, closing the distance between them until his lips were a hair's breadth from Harry's. "You should be worried," he whispered, closing the distance between them, finally allowing himself to do as his instincts demanded.

The moment his lips settled over Harry's, the boy gasped, and he was well and truly lost. Harry gripped Snape's shoulders tightly, pushing with the balls of his feet against the sand to compensate for the height difference.

Snape pushed upwards, holding Harry tighter as the two of them began to drift through the water. Snape was momentarily surprised when Harry's tongue flicked against his lips then invaded his mouth. The kiss quickly went from cautious exploration, to hot, wet and demanding.

Snape began to hum in appreciation, and the melody wrapped around them, enveloping them until Harry thought he would die from the pleasure of it.

He pulled back, panting harshly, his eyes wide and dazed. Snape's mouth journeyed down his jaw, and Harry could only cling as he started sucking on his neck, still humming. Harry ground forward wantonly.

Snape's hands slid down Harry's back to his bum, pulling the boy up close and arching against him as the rhythm of his humming increased in tempo.

"Oh fuck," Harry breathed out, eyes screwing shut. He clung to Snape, fingers digging into his shirt. Snape's erection dug into his hip and everything was blurring and all he could hear was humming. He was coming, coming harder than he had that time in the bathroom, and he swore that he blacked out.

Snape growled low in his throat when he felt Harry begin to pulse against him. Clenching Harry's arse tightly, he arched against him one last time as his climax washed over him, leaving him breathless and panting, his world shifting around him.

Harry hung onto the taller man, boneless. He suspected if he let go now, he'd float back up to the surface.

Snape knew he should feel guilty, but he didn't; he couldn't, not now. It was too late for that, far too late. He let his forehead fall against Harry's as he waited for his heartbeat to calm down.

"Is it always this dark?" Harry murmured, opening his eyes and locking with Snape's.

"Yes, we're near the bottom," Snape said, thrown off by the question. "There are places that even I have trouble seeing," he said, frowning. "Why?"

Harry smiled drowsily. "It's nothing, just curious."

"Are you all right?" Snape asked, feeling awkward.

"Yeah, but are you?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side. "You're looking a bit peaky."

"It's just the shadows," Snape said dismissively, though now that the endorphins had begun to fade, he was realizing that he had just sealed his fate, one way or another.

Harry stared at him, his brow creasing in worry. "You're sure?"

"Of course," Snape replied, smiling tightly. He let his hands slide up Harry's back into his hair as he leaned forward and kissed Harry lightly on the lips. It would be so easy to cast the enchantment, to keep Harry here. Permanently.

A beeping sound broke through the silence and Snape cocked his head, listening. "We've got to return," he said, shifting his thoughts away from things better left alone. "There's a problem with my Slytherins," he said, looking at Harry apologetically.

Harry nodded. His body shuddered, a brief reminder of what had just occurred, and he laced his fingers through Snape's.

"I've got to transform, it will be faster," he said, chanting the familiar incantation, his body shifting and morphing. In a matter of minutes, they were at the tunnel entrance and he had transformed back to his human form.

"Can you find your way back up?" he asked, needing to hurry. Draco wouldn't call for him unless it was important.

Harry nodded once again and before he could say anything, Snape was off at the closest to a run he'd ever seen the man move.

Harry made his way more slowly, his mind clear and sober as he went over the events of the last hour. He felt calm, relaxed, and quite pleased with himself. He was grinning when he left the dungeon, taking the stairs two at a time. He knew there was more to this than a quick snog and whatever you called what they had done. He wanted to enjoy it while he could, because things were bound to go to hell again. They had a way of doing that lately.

But for now, he couldn't stop grinning.

##    
_  
**Chapter Twelve**   
_   


Draco waited impatiently outside his godfather's quarters for the Snape to come back. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt where he had been and who he had been with. The Weasel couldn't keep his Mudblood girlfriend quiet during dinner and if one knew enough, it was easy to figure out where Potter had gone.

A door slammed down the hallway and a few moments later Snape appeared, looking flushed.

"What happened?" he asked, frowning as he looked around.

Draco shrugged, eyeing the man before him, noting the flush of his cheeks and the slightly glazed quality of his eyes. The only thing he could think was, "Oh shit, not good." Whatever had happened, it was bad and more than likely involved Potter, the four-eyed wonder.

"Nothing," he answered coolly.

"Pardon me?" Snape said, eyes narrowing.

Draco stared up at him with a blank expression. "Nothing happened, but you were gone and then Potter was missing at dinner. The Mu- Granger was screaming about how Weasley shouldn't have left him alone. I put two and two together and called you back." His impassive appearance faded into one of anxiousness. "I didn't want to lose my godfather," he mumbled, glancing up and down the halls to make sure no one else heard that confession.

"I assure you, there is no danger of that," Snape answered irritably. "Was the Headmaster at dinner?"

Draco frowned and nodded. "Yes."

Snape sighed. "Merlin, this is turning into a mess," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What happened? Potter didn't..." Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Snape snorted. "Don't blame Potter; this is my doing, not his."

"He didn't cut himself and bleed into the lake then? He didn't get into a magical contract with you? Don't pull that bullshit with me, Uncle Severus. He's more at fault than you are and it's his job to fix it. Where'd he go?"

Snape was taken aback by the vehement tone in Draco's voice. Harry had said that Draco had been pushing him around a bit, but he really didn't think it all that serious. Apparently, he had been wrong.

"Draco, I can handle this; there's no need to worry," he said, knowing that he was lying.

"Fuck! Uncle Severus, do you even hear what you're saying?" Draco hissed, "No need to worry? Of course there's need to worry! This is Potter we're talking about!"

Snape looked around the corridor before grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him into his office and closing the door. "Your mother would be appalled to hear such language from you," he said, shoving Draco into a chair before taking his own seat behind the desk.

"My mother isn't here," Draco groused.

Snape grunted, staring at the wood grain on the top of his desk, wondering where and how to start with his godson.

Draco sat rigidly in his chair. "You weren't going to come back, were you?"

Snape looked at Draco, considering whether to speak honestly. He then realized that he wasn't sure of the answer himself. "I don't know," he finally answered, watching his finger as it traced a swirl in the grain. "I would like to think I was coming back, but I really don't know," he said, meeting Draco's eyes. "I won't lie to you, I wanted to stay, but whether I would have or not, I do not know. I would thank you for your timely intervention, but I'm not feeling particularly grateful. Perhaps that is the answer to your question."

The blond nodded and made to stand and leave. He paused at the entrance, having obtained the only real information he wanted. "If you...if you do decide to stay, would you tell anyone first?"

"If possible, I would tell you first," he said, knowing that wasn't what Draco wanted to hear. He wanted assurance that Snape wasn't just going to disappear into the depths of the lake, never to be seen again. But he wouldn't lie to Draco, he deserved better than that. "If I can, I will."

Draco nodded, and then he was gone.

Snape stared at the closed door, wondering what the hell he was going to do now.

~*~

Harry hadn't seen him coming, and the shove was hard. He found himself flying towards the floor before he knew what was happening. He managed to throw out his hands and catch himself before he hit his chin, but the cracking noise and the sudden excruciating pain from his left wrist didn't make him feel any better about it. He rolled onto his back and saw Malfoy looming over him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked, struggling to sit up while he cradled his throbbing wrist to his chest.

"I'm only going to tell you once, Potter," he hissed, eyes flashing dangerously. "If you leave him...if he _dies_ because _you_ – of all people – couldn't do the right thing, I will find you, and I _will_ kill you," Draco finished, his hands clenched into fists.

"Why do you care?" Harry asked coldly. "It's not like it has anything to do with you."

Draco's lip curled in disgust, looking eerily like Snape. "Severus is my godfather, Potter. _Family_ , which is something you know nothing about," he sneered. "We look out for our own."

"Piss off, Malfoy," Harry grumbled, hissing when he tried to bend his wrist. "You've got nothing to worry about. I'm not the one pushing people away." He glared up at the other boy, scowl firmly in place. "And I think you broke my wrist."

Draco smirked. "Consider it a down payment," he said, walking away.

Harry scrambled to his feet and childishly stuck his tongue out at the retreating Slytherin. He sighed glumly and changed his course towards the hospital wing, his good mood vanished.

The portraits were whispering to each other as he passed, openly staring at him. He glared back. Didn't anyone mind their own damn business anymore?

Bloody hell his arm hurt.

He made his way to the hospital wing, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. There was only so much harassment he could take. He shook his head and sighed as he pushed open the doors to the hospital wing, fully intent on giving himself over to Madam Pomfrey for the night. It was better than having to face the entirety of Gryffindor Tower so soon after his sojourn in the lake.

~*~

"Enter," Snape called at the knock on his door. He was surprised to find Granger and Weasley standing in his doorway, trying not to look nervous.

"What is it?" he snapped, scowling.

"Excuse me, sir. I was wondering if you had seen Harry," Granger asked, squaring her shoulders.

Snape eyes narrowed. "Not since this afternoon."

Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

"Did you lose him?" Snape asked, smirking at the two of them.

Ron's face turned red, whether from anger or embarrassment, Snape didn't know.

"We were worried when he didn't return to the Tower with the rest of the boys," she said, squeezing Ron's hand before he could say anything that would get them all into worse trouble. "If you see him, would you tell him we're looking for him?"

"I am not your messenger boy," Snape said, waving his hand in dismissal. "Now get out." He returned his gaze to the parchment on his desk, ignoring the two of them until the door closed behind them.

When they were gone, he stared at the door, wondering if he should be worried.

By midnight he'd had enough of wondering if Harry had been found yet. Slamming his drink down on the side table beside his chair, he rose and slipped his shoes back on.

Thirty minutes later, he had his answer when he ran into Madame Pomfrey outside the hospital wing. "Ah, Professor Snape," she said, tiredly. "I was just going to grab a snack in the kitchens."

Snape smiled tightly.

"Oh, before I forget! Potter just drank the second to last of my bone re-knitting potion; can you add that to the list I gave you?"

Snape frowned. "Potter? What happened now?" he asked, trying to see over her shoulder and into the hospital wing. All he could see was the bed curtain around a solitary bed.

Poppy rolled her eyes. "The boy is brilliant on a broom, but can't walk to save his life. Claims he tripped in the corridor and landed wrong. It's just a tiny break, should be right as rain by morning."

Snape's frowned deepened. "I see." He couldn't help but wonder if Harry had help falling from a certain Slytherin.

"If you'll excuse me, there is a piece of apple pie calling to me," Poppy said, grinning. "Goodnight, Severus."

Snape nodded and waited until she was around the corner before entering the hospital wing. He expected to find Harry sleeping, but as soon as he peeked his head around the corner of the curtain, Harry was reaching for his glasses.

"Do you make the potions taste like piss on purpose?"

"Yes," Snape scowled. "What happened?"

Harry smiled in amusement and shrugged. "I fell."

"You're lying," Snape accused, as though he knew the true story.

"Not entirely."

"Then you admit you had help to the floor?" Snape sat on the edge of the bed, watching Harry's expression closely.

"More than enough help." Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Yeah."

"Tell me what he did," he said, placing a hand on Harry's knee and squeezing lightly, needing the contact.

Harry peered down at the hand resting on his leg before turning his attention towards the door of the wing. "He just shoved me when I wasn't paying attention."

Snape's hand tightened on the boy's knee until Harry gasped. He pulled his hand away quickly, clasping them tightly in his lap. "I'm sorry," Snape apologized quietly.

Harry shook his head. "Don't be." He leaned back against his pillow examining Snape's face in the dim candlelight. "Your godson can be a real prat when he wants to be, did you know that?"

Snape snorted. "Yes, I am aware. He didn't take our talk this afternoon very well, but that was no reason to take it out on you. I promise, it will not happen again," he said, his voice taking on an edge.

"I'm sure no matter what you tell him, it will. He's very protective of his 'family.'"

Snape looked at Harry intently. "And I am protective of mine," he growled.

Harry blinked, his stomach clenching and his heart moving into his throat. "I'm sure you are," he murmured, the tips of his ears going bright red.

Snape looked away, feeling embarrassed by the words that had come unbidden to his lips.

Harry picked at the hospital bed sheet for a few seconds, before tilting his head to the side in a considering manner. "How'd you find out I was here?"

Snape's lip quirked in amusement. "Your friends came to my office looking for you. I think they were afraid I had dragged you to the bottom of the lake," he said. He swallowed thickly, realizing how close he had come to doing just that.

"You did," Harry pointed out with a teasing smile, but it faded at the pained expression he got in return. "What we did....was it...I mean...did it...?"

Snape stared at the floor. "Nothing has changed, you are still free to go at any time," he said quietly.

"And if I don't want to?" Harry asked, equally quiet.

Snape turned his head slightly, watching Harry from the corner of his eye. "You've got to."

"Why?"

"I won't condemn you to that."

Harry crawled out from beneath the covers and moved to kneel beside him. "How can I be condemned to something I want?"

"You don't know what you're asking," Snape said, hanging his head to hide behind his curtain of hair.

Harry opened his mouth to refute him, but Madam Pomfrey chose that exact moment to enter the ward. His eyes widened and he hurriedly got back under the covers.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, looking curiously between the two of them.

"I needed to speak with Potter about the detention he missed tonight. If you'll both excuse me, I have rounds to make," he said, nodding stiffly at the two of them and leaving the hospital wing.

Harry watched him go, before turning to Madam Pomfrey with a sheepish smile. She just sighed and shook her head, before tucking him in tightly.

"You aren't to get up, is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am."

She nodded approvingly and went into her office. Harry waited for a long time, before the light was extinguished, and he relaxed. Snape had come to find him; it was funny the way the butterflies in his stomach picked now to awaken.

~*~

Harry was struggling to wake up. He knew it was a dream. It had to be. Snape had his ankle in a death grip and was pulling him down to the bottom of the lake. But he hadn't cast the enchantment, and Harry couldn't breathe. He was suffocating, drowning, and Snape wouldn't let go, no matter how hard he struggled.

"No!" he yelled, sitting bolt upright in bed, looking around with wild eyes.

His heart beat painfully beneath his breast and he struggled to inhale. He was safe, but telling his brain that didn't seem to help. He clutched at his chest, trying to calm his breathing down. It had been so real – the water pressing in around him and collecting in his lungs – that the burning sensation was still present.

With trembling hands, he pulled off the sweat-soaked covers and swung his legs off the bed. He stayed like that, head bowed, just inhaling deeply and slowly while he swayed dangerously. He couldn't see straight and it was still dark in the ward.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a shift of movement. He scrambled over the bed, grabbing his wand and his glasses. Wand out, he struggled to get his glasses on so that he could see.

" _Lumos_!"

Harry searched the shadows, but he was alone. He fell back on the bed, taking deep breaths until his heart finally stopped racing. Once the adrenaline wore off, he became aware of the ache in his arm. Moaning, he climbed back under the covers, cradling his arm against his chest.

Dawn was beginning to lighten the room when he finally drifted off to sleep.

 **  
_Chapter Thirteen_   
**

He had to see Malfoy. His legs were wobbly, and his arm twinged, but he had to do it. Harry worried his lower lip as he descended into Slytherin territory. He could just barely recall which way led to the Slytherin common room and could only hope that he wouldn't get lost in the maze of halls down here.

Harry paused when he saw a bit of the wall shimmer, then slide smoothly out of the way. He quickly strode forward, not caring if he was about to be killed; or, at least, he tried not to care that he was likely about to be killed.

Of course, it just had to be Pansy Parkinson who exited.

"Potter," she sneered, looking over her shoulder to make sure the common room had sealed itself off, "a bit far from our precious tower, aren't we?"

"I need to speak to Malfoy," he said as patiently as he could.

"Draco's busy," she said, smirking.

Harry's teeth clenched together. "Look, just go tell him I need to talk to him. If he says no, fine, but he's not going to say no."

Pansy looked at him with disgust, but said the password too softly for him to hear, and disappeared. Harry paced impatiently in front of the wall. A few minutes later, Malfoy emerged followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

"What do you want, scarhead?" he asked, fingering his wand.

"I need to talk to you." He looked at the two goons standing behind Malfoy. "Alone. I don't think your 'family' would like this conversation overheard."

Draco looked at him through narrowed eyes before nodding. "All right." He nodded back toward the wall. "Wait for me inside."

Crabbe and Goyle looked suspiciously at Harry, but did Draco's bidding like good little lapdogs.

"Well?"

Harry sighed and leaned against the opposite wall. "Snape's pushing me away again. He won't have me." He grit his teeth and glared at the floor, before looking up once more, eyes gleaming strangely. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I won't let him die, and you don't want him dead, so tell me, what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Can't blame him, who would want you?" Draco said, the words dripping with malice.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Harry said, shoving passed him. It was a stupid idea, coming to Draco Malfoy of all people.

"Potter!"

Harry turned, glaring at Malfoy.

"What?"

Malfoy seemed to be indecisive about something. "Is he really being that stubborn?"

"The worst."

"Fucking bastard."

Harry blinked and tried not to snort. "That's what I thought, but it won't help any."

Draco ran his fingers through his hair, pacing in circles while he thought. Snape could be the most stubborn man on the planet, even worse than his father, and that was saying something.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," Draco said, his face screwing up as if he had smelled something foul. "Seduce him. If he fucks you, he won't toss you out." Draco shuddered as if the very idea appalled him, which it probably did.

"And just how do I do that?"

"How the hell should I know! Wiggle your arse at him or something! Merlin, Potter, I don't want think about the details," Draco said, wanting to cover his eyes and plug his ears.

"Snape's got some strange ideas about sex, and honor and whatever else it is. Man can't just have a good shag and call it good. His worst flaw if you ask me. Well it was, until he got messed up with you," Draco said disdainfully.

Harry sighed, "Fine. If this just screws things up worse, I'm blaming you."

"Can't get any worse," Draco muttered, going back to the entrance to his common room. He turned to look at Harry. "Don't mess it up, Potter."

The wall slid open and Draco stepped inside, leaving Harry alone in the corridor.

~*~

  
There was only so much Harry could do to "seduce" Snape; the man was fairly, well, he could be downright intimidating, and after their botched conversation the night before, Harry figured that the best way to break the ice was to show up for practice at the normal time.

He knocked on the door and entered when told to. His violin case in hand, Harry felt bolstered for the events to come. He had to convince Snape that he meant what he said, but the problem was that he wasn't sure how he felt.

He certainly didn't loathe the man anymore, that was certain, but he couldn't explain what he did feel. Black eyes bore into the top of his bowed head, and Harry couldn't bring himself to meet Snape's penetrating gaze.

"Is your arm healed?" Snape asked.

Harry looked at him and nodded.

"Then perhaps you can remove your instrument from its case, as it is rather hard to play in its current state," he said, nodding at the black leather case.

Harry gave him a weak half-smile as he pulled the battered instrument from its case. He blinked when Snape rounded his desk and grabbed his wrist.

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

Snape's fingers tightened on the wrist to the point of pain, and Harry whimpered. Whatever Snape had been thinking, he obviously changed his mind and dropped Harry's arm like it burned.

"Well, it was feeling better," Harry said, scowling at Snape and fighting the urge to rub his wrist.

His eyes followed Snape's movements across the room as he began to pace. He surreptitiously rubbed his sore wrist. It might have been better, but Madam Pomfrey had instructed him not to put too much pressure on it or else it was likely to break again. He sighed, and when it didn't seem like Snape was going to stop pacing on his own, Harry brought his violin up to his chin, adjusted his posture and sighed, before beginning to play the beginning of “On Wings of Song”. It was the calmest song he knew and he closed his eyes trying to visualize the sheet music and the melody in his head.

His mouth parted and his expression softened as he played the soft, lullaby-esque song.

Snape stopped pacing when the music began, looking at Harry in surprise. This was the first time he'd heard Harry play with real emotion, and it was coming through in the music. This was what it was supposed to sound like.

Snape closed his eyes and let the music wash over and soothe him. He'd been agitated all day, but had refrained from picking up his own violin, afraid of the tune that would come from it. He opened his eyes, watching Harry play, mesmerized by sight.

Harry's eyes opened slowly and he glanced over at Snape and almost lost tempo. He continued to play unable to stop himself from doing so, unable to tear his gaze from Snape's.

Snape didn't look away from him, even when the song ended; the two stood, staring silently at one another. A minute passed, then two--the only change was the lowering of Harry's violin.

Harry made to take a step forward than stopped. He blinked a few times and managed to look away.

"Beautiful," Snape whispered, unsure if he was speaking of Harry, the music, or both.

Harry glanced at Snape, uncertainty and embarrassment coloring his awkward movement.

"No it wasn't," he disagreed.

At Harry's words, Snape blinked, almost as if a fog had been lifted from his mind. Was that what happened when he played for Harry? Did the boy lose himself as completely as Snape had just lost himself?

Snape cleared his throat. "That was the first time you truly connected as you played. What were you thinking about?" he asked curiously.

"Calming you," Harry answered before he could stop himself. He looked down at the violin in his hands. It was still sitting there as beaten up as ever; how could anything he'd played compare to what he had heard from Snape? It was unfathomable to him, how what he had just done could constitute as beauty.

Snape looked at Harry for a long moment, as if trying to come to a decision about something. Finally, he nodded. "Wait here a moment."

Harry shifted nervously, watching Snape leave through a side door. He idly played scales while waiting for Snape to return. When he finally did, he was holding a well cared for violin case. He took the violin from Harry's hand, handed him the case, and plucked away the bow.

"Open it," Snape said, placing the old violin in its battered case.

Curious, Harry opened the case and found a new violin. He looked at Snape in question.

"Now that you are no longer mangling notes, it's time you had a decent violin. You'll find the sound on this to be richer," he said, amused by the look on Harry's face as he stroked the finely carved wood.

"You just have these things lying around?"

Harry's eyes flickered up to meet Snape's amusement and something else reflecting in the pools of green. It took him a moment to realize how truly touched Harry was by this.

Snape merely shrugged. He wasn't about to tell Harry that he had bought the violin specifically for him. It had taken him longer than he thought to find the perfect sound, the perfect violin for Harry.

"I took the liberty of tuning it," he said. "Play your scales please."

Harry nodded and quickly set about doing just that. His eyes widened in surprise as he played the A major scale up and down, then switched to the minor key and did it again. Snape was right, the sound quality was different-almost drastically different- and he didn't know if it was all the instrument itself, or partly him as well. He stopped after completing all the scales he had learned and felt competent playing.

His gaze was distant as he murmured, "Thank you."

Snape shuffled through some parchments until he found the one he was looking for. "In addition to the songs you have learned and will continue to practice, you will be adding this," he said, handing the handwritten parchment to Harry. "When you have mastered it, my part of the contract will be fulfilled."

Harry took the parchment and swallowed thickly. The last few songs he had been handed had a few pauses and rests in them. This one...this one was like a jungle of notes, and he doubted he'd ever learn it, but that wasn't the only thing about it that was remarkable.

"It's untitled." He lowered the parchment in confusion. "It's not even signed or dated."

"It is not generally a song we write down, but it is the only way I can teach it to you," Snape said, looking at Harry intently. "You will show it to no one, is that understood?"

Harry nodded, moving his sweaty thumb off the ink on the page, smearing some of it, much to his humiliation.

"What happens when I finish learning it?"

"You will be free," Snape said simply.

"But what about you?"

Snape sighed. "How many times are we going to have this conversation, Potter?"

"A few more times, I'm sure, sir." Harry smiled weakly.

"Since you brought the subject up, I should tell you that there will be no more excursions into the lake; it's becoming too dangerous," Snape said, not looking at him.

Harry got the feeling, he wouldn't be playing his new violin any time soon and set it back in its case and closed it with a few snaps.

"Does that mean you won't be disappearing for a few days at a time either?"

"Your lesson is not over," Snape said, scowling.

"It is until you listen to me."

"Then you will go mad," Snape said dismissively.

"Fine, I will then."

Harry took the violin's case and held it out at arms length to give it back.

Snape ignored it. "Stop being foolish."

"I'm not the one with a stick up my arse."

"Ten points lost, Potter."

Harry glared. "So we're going to start this again?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you fighting me on this?"

"Because you're pushing me away again, and I don't want to go."

"You would rather I drag you to the bottom of the lake? Never let you go? Would you rather I go with you when you leave this place, knowing I will be leaving a part of myself behind? Which of those would make you happiest?" Snape growled.

Harry opened his mouth and shut it again. He ran a hand through his hair slowly and turned around, sitting down on the only stool in the room, his back to Snape. He scrubbed his face repeatedly, knowing that he'd have to answer, but unsure how.

It hadn't struck him until now just how badly he screwed up everything. Both of their lives were irreparable because he had drifted out of bounds. He wondered if he'd be sick on Snape's floor. He knew about the bit of Snape's soul that he'd be taking with him, but he hadn't thought about how he'd deal with it. It didn't seem right or fair, but when had anything in his life been fair before?

His sigh was wavering at best. There was nothing he could do anymore to make this right. The idea of living under the lake for the rest of his life scared him in too many ways to count, even though every time he had been under there, he had felt nothing but calm and happy (and horny). But that was a different thing all together. He had been safe and even though he'd never say it out loud, wanted. He was wanted, and not just for his fame, but because Snape had genuinely wanted him there. If he had no one left here, his answer would have been so much simpler. He would go into the lake with Snape, and not care one-way or the other about the world on land; but he had friends here: a family who cared about him deeply.

Snape would be happy though. The man never smiled at all above the lake. It was like he was a different person underwater: a kinder person. A more possessive person as well, but it didn't matter, because Snape was happy. Could he, if he had no choice in the matter -and at this point he knew that he didn't- force Snape to stay away from the lake? Would he want to?

He was trembling, but he was beyond caring because Snape had a point; and while he doubted his professor had expected him to think out the answer, he was doing it.

He sensed, rather than heard Snape move around to stand in front of him, and he raised his red-rimmed eyes to meet Snape's surly gaze.

Snape's expression softened. "As I told you once before, Potter, this is a no-win situation for me, regardless. At least you have a chance to be free and happy, and you need to take it," he said quietly.

Harry rubbed his head with a confused slowness, before shaking his head. "But-"

"Go back to your dormitory; we will continue your lesson tomorrow," Snape said, his voice sounding as hollow as he felt.

Harry slid off the wooden stool and bent over, picking up his new instrument. He shifted awkwardly, unable to hold eye contact with Snape for more than a few seconds. Skirting around the taller man, he exited the practice room and headed back to his dorm.

Any plans he had formed earlier after his conversation with Malfoy were placed in the back of his mind for further scrutiny later.

Snape went to his quarters and sat in his usual chair by the fireplace. He stared into the flames, wishing not for the first time that things could be different. He had no doubt that were he to leave with Harry, he could be happy. For a time at least. Months, maybe even years. But he couldn't deny his nature indefinitely. The water would call to him, and he would have to return, leaving Harry behind.

If he stayed here, let Harry go, he would be a broken shell. Eventually, neither the water nor his music would be able to ease the deep ache. Death was the inevitable end to that course of action, but it was better than the alternative: tying Potter to him, knowing that eventually he would break his heart.

Snape sighed, wondering when it was that he became a sodding Gryffindor.

 **  
_Chapter Fourteen_   
**

Draco was pissed off. It wasn't hard to guess what had Potter all riled up today. There was only one person, aside from himself, that could piss Potty off and that was his godfather. He stormed through the winding corridors of the dungeons and knocked loudly on the portrait guarding Snape's rooms. The woman in the portrait sniffed disdainfully, but after one well-chosen, rude gesture she buggered off.

He stepped back when he heard movement within and folded his arms across his chest with a churlish expression.

A moment later, Snape opened the door.

"Well, Potter is well and truly pissed off which means you turned him down, and that means you're still being a stubborn prat," Draco said without so much as a hello.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is not up for discussion, Draco."

"Like hell it isn't. Potter wants to be with you and you still push him away. Do you want to die that badly?"

He gasped as he was suddenly pulled through the portrait hole and into Snape's quarters by the collar.

Snape unceremoniously dropped Draco onto the couch. "Potter doesn't want to be with me, you fool, he just wants to assuage his own guilt for being an utter idiot and putting us in this mess."

"Well, isn't that enough?"

"No, it bloody well isn't!" Severus snapped. "Honestly Draco, can you picture it? I follow Potter off to wherever it is he plans to go after school. And we do what, exactly? Set up house, perhaps with a little cottage with a lovely pond outside?"

"You could always take him into the lake," Draco pointed out.

"No! That is the one thing I will not do!" Snape ground out.

"So then you do want to die."

"Of course I don't want to die!" Snape shouted. "But I won't force him to spend the rest of his life in the lake! You know that if I take him down, he can never leave it. Ever. He won't just be tied to me, he'll be tied to the lake."

"Well, you don't have much of a choice do you!" Draco yelled back.

"The lake is my home, but I can leave it for long periods of time, Harry wouldn't have that luxury. He could never leave its boundaries."

Draco shrugged. "Better than you dying from a broken heart."

"Answer me this then, Draco," Snape said, his voice becoming low and soothing. "What if you were told that McGongall was dying because of something you did and the only way to save her was to make her your mate. Are you saying you'd do it?"

Draco opened his mouth to protest that it was completely different than stopped himself, "If it meant not dying; but that's really unfair, Uncle Severus, she's got at least forty years on you!"

"The point is, you would not wish to be tied down to someone so...old, now would you?"

"You are not old by any standards, and I highly doubt Potter would be so upset if he thought you were ancient."

"Draco, what do you want me to say?" Snape asked in exasperation.

"I want you to say that you won't push Potter away if he comes to you again. I want to hear you say it, because really there's only so much of Granger's shrieking that one can endure."

Snape sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands before facing Draco. "I promise I will not push him away, but that is the limit of it. Now just...go and stop worrying so much," Snape groused, waving toward the door.

"It's not like you seem to be," Draco muttered, before taking his leave of his godfather.

Snape closed the door behind Draco and rested his forehead against it. He agreed not to push Harry away. He could do that when the time came. For now, he'd put up with it. Who knew, maybe it could work. For a while anyway.

~*~

  
Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, his violin lying out of its case in front of him. He reached out fingering the strings, knowing it was still tuned without even testing it. Ron shifted uncomfortably on his own bed, waiting for Harry to tell him what he wanted.

"Has Snape always been stubborn?" Harry asked, picking up the instrument and settling it on his lap.

"I reckon he was born that way," Ron answered. "You ever known him when he wasn't the uptight, cranky pain-in-the-arse he always is?"

Harry's eyes flickered over to meet Ron's gaze. "Yes. Twice."

Ron scoffed at that. "Come on Harry, you know what I mean, that man doesn't change. He's always a mean-spirited git intent on making our lives miserable, you more than most!"

"Yes, he is when he's here in the castle," Harry agreed, inhaling and the exhaling with a shake. "He's… he's never happy here."

"Look mate, what are you gettin' at?" Ron asked, studying Harry closely.

"I don't know, Ron. I really don't. I don't know what to do and it should be so easy, but it isn't and I just don't know what to do anymore."

Ron hopped to his feet. "Come on then," Ron said, rustling around in their trunks to pull out their brooms.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, laughing.

"We're going to do the one thing that's easy, then maybe some of the harder answers will come to you. And if that fails, at least we'll have got out of the castle for awhile," Ron added, grinning.

Harry looked at him with a suspicious smile. "Where are we going then?" He placed his violin back in its case and stood up.

"Flying, you daft prat. I figure we can grab a practice Snitch and have a bit of fun while we can!"

Harry laughed and shook his head, "As if you'll win."

Ron cuffed Harry on the back of his head. "Come on, we haven't got all day now, have we!'

Still laughing, the two boys headed for the outdoors so Harry could clear his head.

Harry grabbed their brooms out of the broom shed out on the grounds and ran out onto the pitch. He tossed Ron his broom and jumped on his own. He hadn't realized how much he had missed this. With the autumn season over and the weather being like it had, he hadn't gone outside to fly.

Harry zoomed up towards the clouds, before flipping over and careening back down, pulling up when he reached the same height as the top of the goal posts. Ron was still standing on the ground below him and Harry could see, even from all the way up here, that he was rolling his eyes.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Just waiting for you to get up there so I could release the Snitch," Ron said, opening the small box and holding it up. The Snitch was gone in an instant.

"Game on!" Ron shouted, jumping on to his broom and racing for the sky.

~*~

  
Two hours and five matches later, they drifted back towards the ground, the sky darkening by the minute.

Harry grinned over at Ron as they touched earth. His fingers held the Snitch tightly, as he went to put it back in its box.

Once it was safely put away, Ron slung an arm around Harry's shoulder as they walked back to the castle. "Well mate, did that help clear your brain up a bit?"

"Yeah, it did. You're a genius sometimes, anyone ever tell you that?"

Ron grinned and his ears turned red with embarrassed pleasure. "So what's the plan?"

"Still don't know, but that's not as scary anymore." Harry gave him a lopsided grin as they made to put away their broomsticks. He paused as he shut the door, looking in the direction of the lake with a thoughtful stare. "Hey Ron, do me a favor?"

Seeing the direction of Harry's gaze, Ron tensed. "Depends on the favor."

"I might not be at dinner. Can you make sure Hermione keeps her gob shut about it? Malfoy's shoves have been extra painful recently and I'm inclined to blame her."

Ron frowned. "You sure you know what you're doin'?"

"No clue, but I need to talk to someone on Snape's side and there's only one place where they are."

Ron nodded reluctantly. "Alright mate, but be careful alright? Don't let any of them lake people do anything fishy." Ron smiled. "Lake people? Fish? Sometimes I think I'm brilliant. Anyway, I'll get Hermione out of your hair." He slapped Harry on the shoulder. "Be careful, Harry," he said, and with a sad smile he left Harry to his own devices.

Harry waited until Ron disappeared from sight before rushing down to the lake. He knew this was potentially dangerous but what choice did he have at this point? Dumbledore was out of the question, because he knew that he would discourage him, Hermione wouldn't be much of a help, if he told her any of his problems she'd blush furiously and change the topic. He had already gone to Malfoy and while he knew he'd probably have to attempt that half-arsed plan someday it didn't have to be yet. He didn't doubt for a second that Snape would know what he was trying to do and somehow he got the feeling the man wouldn't be overly appreciative about it.

He kneeled at the edge of the lake, drew his wand out of his pocket and quickly cast the bubblehead charm, before plunging his head into the freezing cold water.

Harry gasped, his eyes widened and his entire body shook. Perhaps this wasn't the smartest choice.

"Cadmus!" Harry shouted, only hoping the merman would hear him all the way at the bottom of the lake.

Harry waited, repeating the yell every fifteen seconds, knowing he couldn't do this for much longer. Without Snape, the water was freezing and he was shaking uncontrollably.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a face appeared before him and Harry pulled out of the water, startled. He quickly dunked his head down again to find Cadmus waiting. "What is it?" he asked, scowling at Harry.

"I need help."

Cadmus' tail swished in irritation. "With what?"

Harry sighed, his head ached from the cold and his teeth were beginning to chatter. "With Snape, he's being a stubborn prick, and I don't want him to die because he refuses to believe I want to be with him."

Cadmus frowned. "Severus is fighting his true nature, his instincts. He is trying to protect you, human. You should not come into the water with him again," he warned.

"But he won't come with me at the end of the year either," Harry said, beginning to grow desperate, "and as much as I'd like to stay here, I just...I can't. And I don't know what to do."

"Then you must change his mind," Cadmus answered.

"But how?" Harry knew he'd have to get out of the water soon, or he'd get sick. "He's so set in his ways and every time I try to talk about it, he shoves me away. I don't think anyone has ever changed his mind before, ever!"

"If he did not care for you, he would not be trying to push you away from him. All the creatures of the lake know that he wants you; why do you doubt it? Stop leaving when he pushes; convince him that you want him in return. But do not allow him to bring you to the water again," he warned darkly. With a last steely look at Harry, Cadmus disappeared into the blackness.

Harry pulled his head out of the water, canceled the spell and sat back on the hard earth. He wiped at his wet face with his sleeves and shivered. Standing up, he ran back towards Hogwarts, amazed at how dark it was already.

It wasn't until he was on the stairs leading to the main doors that Harry remembered he was a bloody wizard and cast a warming charm on himself. By then it was too late, he was frozen to the bone and no charm was going to be able to fix it.

He could hear the chatter coming from the great hall and considered going in to dinner. But then he shivered and changed direction, taking the stairs two at a time until he was at Gryffindor tower. He went straight to the bathroom and stripped out of his stiff, frozen clothes and stepped under the tepid spray of the shower.

He shuddered as the water scalded his back and neck and let his forehead drop against the wall. They had all given him the same warning; don't let me/him bring him into the lake. Harry coughed and rubbed his nose, but what if he wanted to disappear into its depths, what right did they have to tell him no?

One thing was for certain, when he went back to see Snape that night, they were going to talk, even if they had to scream at each other to do it.

~*~

  
Snape knew the moment Harry stepped into the room that he was going be difficult. The look of determination in his green eyes told Snape it was going to be a long night.

"Begin your warm ups," Snape said tiredly.

Harry did as instructed and tuned his new instrument, before running through the scales quickly and methodically, occasionally changing from whole notes, to half and quarter notes, at one time he attempted to go up and down the A major scale in staccato, but stumbled over a few notes, however, he got it right the second time through and waited for further instructions.

"Did you look over the music I gave you the last time we met?" Snape asked, finally looking up from his desk.

"No."

Snape leaned back in his chair and arched his brow. "And why not?"

"Because I was busy with other things," Harry answered.

"If you're not willing to put in the time needed, then you're wasting my time."

Harry shrugged, twisting the pegs on the neck of the violin idly. "I am putting in the time needed."

"We're talking in circles. Spit out what ever it is you're dancing around so we can move on," Snape said, shaking his head.

"We need to talk, or fight, or throw things at each other or something. I don't know which at this point."

"If you throw something at me, you'll be in detention for a week," Snape warned. "What are we fighting about this time?"

"Your stubborn self."

"So nothing new then?" Snape said with a tight smile. "Can we continue with your lesson now?"

"No, we cannot."

"Then do tell, what is your problem tonight?"

"It's the same problem as before, only now I'm determined to make you understand my point."

"Then perhaps you could get to your point instead of making me drag it out of you," Snape said irritably.

Harry frowned. "I talked to Cadmus today."

Snape scowled. "Why?"

"Because no one else would talk to me."

"Damn it, Potter. Stop beating around the bush and get to the point!"

Harry looked away for a moment. "Why do you keep shoving me away?"

"Because I am trying to protect you," Snape answered, enunciating each word clearly.

"But from what? From you? What is it you're protecting me from?"

"Yes, from me! From being tied to someone twice your age, who, on a good day, you can hardly stomach! And if you do come to care for me, then what? What will you do when the pull to return to the water becomes too much for me? How will you feel when I leave you? Or even worse, what if I can't stand to be without you, so I drag you down with me? Is that what you want for your life?" Snape asked, disgusted.

"It's a hell of a lot better than what I have right now!"

"How can it be better? In a few months you'll be free of this. Of me!"

"But I don't want to be!" Harry protested, almost ready to stomp his feet in irritation. "I don't!"

"Then you're a fool!" Snape replied, though his eyes had widened in surprise. The two stared at one another until Snape asked, "What is it you want and what makes you think I can give it to you?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just...I don't know...it's like you actually see me here and not just the idea of me. I don't know, that sounds so stupid."

Snape stood and ignoring Harry went into the other room. He returned a few moments later with a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses. He poured himself two fingers' worth and Harry considerably less before handing the boy a glass.

Harry took the glass offered to him and just held it, looking down at the floor. His violin was still clenched tightly by the neck in his left hand and the bow was discarded on the floor. He stared into the opaque alcohol before knocking it back in a single gulp.

"I can't take you into the water again," Snape said quietly. "The rest...we'll work out." He tossed back the liquor and poured himself another glass.

"Will we?" Harry asked, not raising his eyes.

"If you're sure it's what you want," Snape answered, needing Harry to be certain.

"I am." Harry's risked lifting his eyes. "I said that once before, and I still am."

Snape nodded and stared into his glass, wondering if Albus was going to fire him on the spot or let him finish out the term. Either way, he'd have to leave Hogwarts.

"You...you do want me around though, right?"

Snape looked at him, considering. Did he? Would Harry be enough for him to be, if not happy, at least content for a time, away from the water?

"Yes, I do. Though whether it will be enough, I don't know," he answered honestly.

Harry looked up slowly and gave Snape a hesitant smile. He set down his empty glass on the table, before bending over and picking up the bow again.

"I'm ready to learn now."

 **  
_Chapter Fifteen_   
**

Hermione stopped studying the moment the music began. It drifted down the narrow stairs leading to the dormitories and filled the expansive, partially empty common room. The room stilled as the music washed over them, the whispers ceasing with every note until there was only music.

Something had happened, Hermione had known the moment Harry returned that night, but he hadn't wanted to talk. He had gone up to his room, saying he needed to be alone. Now, listening to him play, she knew exactly how he was feeling, as if his emotions were tied in to each note.

She set the book down on the floor and made her way towards the stairs. Harry might not have wanted to talk, but he was going to, she couldn't just leave him alone, not like this. She took a deep breath as she reached the seventh year boys' dorm and pushed open the jarred door. Frozen in place all Hermione could do was stare at the pitiful sight before her.

Harry was kneeling on the floor, tears leaking out of the corner of his closed eyes, robes pooled around him, mouth parted ever so slightly. It almost broke her heart, and she was uncertain if she could fix him. She knew she should have been more supportive of him, that she should have done more research herself to better prepare him for what was to come, but even she couldn't have predicted this.

"Harry," she whispered and with a screech the music stopped. Hermione stepped further into the room and shut the door softly behind her, before going and kneeling in front of him. She gently took the violin from his slackened grasp and placed it with care on the floor beside them. Harry couldn't seem to meet her eyes and she reached forward, brushing his hair off his forehead in a soothing manner. "Talk to me, Harry."

He lifted his eyes to meet hers, the shimmering tears making his green eyes shine. "I finally have what I wanted," he said, laughing mirthlessly. "He finally agreed to have me, but I don't think he really wants me."

"Did he tell you that?" she asked, her hand running through his hair, still soothing and comforting him to the best of her abilities. She knew she had lost him to Snape and all she could do now was support him in anyway she could.

Harry shook his head. "Not in so many words, but he didn't have to spell it out for me."

"Come here," she murmured, helping him stand up. Hermione guided him over to his bed and pushed him down on it. She sat beside him, and pulled him into a hug. "What happened tonight, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I told him I wanted to be with him, that he didn't need to die. He told me I was an idiot, and gave me a bunch of reasons why it was a stupid idea. But he said we could try."

"And from that you thought he didn't want you?"

"Oh, right," Harry snorted. "He was practically jumping for joy."

"Harry, honestly, this is still Professor Snape. The man barely smiles; do you honestly think he'd jump for joy?"

"No, but he didn't have to sound so miserable about it, did he?" Harry argued.

"No, he didn't, but that's Snape for you." She squeezed his shoulders gently and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "At least he agreed to it though; that says a lot Harry."

"Does it?" Harry asked, needing reassurance. "I wish you could see what he's like when we're in the lake. He's so different. He smiles even. He says we can't ever go again, but Hermione, it's brilliant when we're down there. He's brilliant!"

"He has a reason, Harry," she said with a sad smile. "Especially since you let him know that you wanted to be with him; if you go into the lake, none of us will ever see you again. He won't allow it."

"Would that be so awful?" Harry whispered.

Hermione situated herself on his bed so she could see him clearly. She grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it. "We'd miss you, Harry. Me, Ron, Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys, we'd all miss you, but if it would make you happy, we can't stop you. It's not something that we get to decide. That decision is yours and yours alone. Just know that no matter what you do decide, at least I will support you. Ron too, if he gets a decent explanation."

"I know I can't, but Hermione, some times I really want to. I've never felt as peaceful and content as I do when I'm in the water with Snape. And when he plays the violin, I can't imagine being anywhere else," he said, feeling free to talk about it now that he was sure Hermione wasn't going to freak out on him.

"What's does it feel like?”

Harry couldn't stop the grin on his face. "I can't even begin to describe it. Everything is just...better. You know?"

"I do. I feel it every time I'm around Ron." She blushed at the admission, but couldn't help smiling back at him.

"What do you feel every time you're around me?"

Harry looked over at the entrance to see Ron standing there with a predatory smile. Hermione shoved Harry and he fell back on his bed with a laugh. Ron's face broke into a grin and he crossed the room in a few easy strides before bouncing onto Harry's bed.

"Love, Ronald, what else?" Hermione muttered with a chiding tone. Ron wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her neck.

Harry mock-gagged even as his stomach began tying in knots. Love? Was that what the feeling was? Love. That hadn't even been a possibility to him before, after all, how could he love Snape? It was Snape, for Merlin's sake!

"How did you know? That you were in love I mean?" Harry asked, looking at the two of them.

Hermione tapped her lips and looked thoughtful, while Ron's face scrunched up first in confusion then thought.

"I remember when, but how?" Hermione sighed. "They're so locked together, Harry. I believe I knew I was in love the moment I realized I never wanted to be held by anyone else. The moment I realized that if Ron left me I'd feel empty."

Harry blinked, digesting that before looking at Ron, who was staring wistfully down at the top of his girlfriend's head. "I've known since fourth year, mate, the whole Krum incident, I suddenly realized that if I didn't do anything I would lose her to someone else and I couldn't live with myself if I didn't do anything."

"I seem to recall you didn't do anything until sixth year," Harry pointed out with a teasing grin.

The tips of Ron's ears went red and he shook his head, "Yeah, well."

"Don't follow Ron's example, Harry," Hermione scolded exasperatedly, although her expression spoke volumes. "Or we still wouldn't be together."

Ron looked between the two of them and shifted nervously. "So, are you...you know...in love with Snape?"

"I don't know," Harry answered uneasily, it wasn't like he hadn't expected the question, but still.

Ron grinned. "You don't seem to know a lot of things lately."

"Ron!"

"What?"

Harry laughed as Hermione elbowed Ron in the stomach. The redhead gasped and pulled a bit of Hermione's curly hair in retaliation.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Ron wasn't completely freaking out on him. He seemed to be taking things in his stride. "Anyone up for a trip to the kitchens?" Harry asked, realizing he was hungry.

"You haven't eaten yet?" Hermione asked, with a worried expression. Harry groaned inwardly as she grabbed his hand and jumped off the bed pulling him with her. Here came the mothering. "You coming, Ron?"

"Of course, dear."

Hermione rolled her eyes and then squeaked. Harry looked over at Ron suspiciously, the other boy's innocent expression wasn't fooling him for a minute. Ron smiled brightly and Harry shook his head, linking his arm with Hermione's just as Ron did the same. Hermione placed a kiss to Harry's temple and Ron emitted an affronted squawk.

Harry couldn't stop smiling as the three of them made their way to the kitchens, feeling normal for the first time in what seemed like forever. Better than normal even. If he went with Snape, he would miss this, but another part of him recognized that this, too, was fleeting. Soon they would have graduated and Ron and Hermione would be starting their own life together. A life Harry wouldn't be part of from day to day.

Harry was determined to make things work with Snape. Hopefully the man wouldn't fight him too hard; but even if he did, Harry wasn't going to give up on him.

~*~

  
The following day felt hellishly long as Harry went from class to class waiting for the day to end. Since it was Monday Potions was the last class of the day and he honestly couldn't wait for once. Ever since the talk with Ron and Hermione he'd been feeling better about his situation and just life in general. Plus, he had actually studied his Potions textbook the night before and felt better prepared for the lesson today.

He walked down the corridor to the Potions classroom hand and hand with his best friend, listening as Hermione chattered away about her Ancient Runes class. If he wasn't as excited as she was, he might have listened a bit more intently as she discussed it with him.

But then something she said made him turn to her in shock. "Wait, my scar means what exactly?"

Hermione scowled at his inattention. "It means destroyer, or swiftness and power. It also has military significance."

Harry blinked and brought a hand up to his fading scar. He rubbed it and offered Hermione an apologetic smile for interrupting her babbling lecture.

"If I had known that maybe I wouldn't have felt so nervous going into the final battle."

Hermione nudged him and winked at him, causing him to blush slightly. Her hand slipped from his as they entered the classroom and took their respective seats. Harry glanced down at his watch, just another two more minutes before class started. He caught Malfoy staring at him and Harry raised a brow questioningly. The blond sneered, before facing forward again and Harry realized he would never truly understand how Draco Malfoy ticked.

The door to the classroom opened and Snape entered, robes billowing dramatically as he stalked to the front of the room. He slammed the stack of essays he was carrying down on his desk and sneered at the class.

"I don't believe I've ever had a seventh year class as inept as you lot," he said, tapping a finger on top of the essays.

Harry couldn't seem to take his eyes from the finger. As he watched it tap, he caught the rhythm of it, the cadence, and soon his mind was full of music.

"Potter!"

Harry snapped out of his daze. "Yes, sir?" he asked, flushing with embarrassment at Snape's scowl.

"Is there a reason you are not joining Finch-Fletchley?" Snape asked. Harry looked questioningly at Hermione.

"He told you to pair up with Justin," she hissed from the corner of her mouth.

"No, sir," Harry mumbled and hastily moved to sit next to Justin. The Hufflepuff sighed heavily and Harry glared at him. It wasn't like he'd got him yelled at as well.

"Now that I have your attention," he said, looking pointedly at Harry before looking at the rest of the class. "Open your text books to page 245." With a wave of his wand the instructions appeared on the board. "You have an hour. Begin."

Harry flipped open his text, ignoring the drumming from Snape's desk. He swore the man was doing it just to distract him and get a chance to take all those points Harry had dared him to.

"I'll go and get the ingredients," Harry said quietly, reading over the list a few times to make sure he had memorized them all. Justin just grunted, not even lifting his head from his book to acknowledge him. Harry rolled his eyes skyward and made his way to the back of the classroom and the student store closet. Everyone else was busily writing down furious notes except Hermione who had jumped out of her seat the moment the page number had been given and had gone to the closet immediately. She squeezed his hand as he passed and he grinned at down at her, before going into the closet.

"Right then," Harry muttered, going over his mental list of ingredients and plucking them off the shelves systematically.

He felt rather than heard someone come in and stand behind him. He turned his head. "Can you see the fenn -" he stopped as his eyes met Snape's.

"Bottom shelf," Snape told him, reaching over Harry and grabbing the aconite from the top shelves.

Harry smiled and bent over to grab it.

Snape inhaled sharply when Harry's arse was suddenly brushing against him. By the time Harry was upright, Snape was gone.

Harry smirked and exited the storeroom, ingredients in hand. He made sure to temper down the smirk as he returned to his seat and placed them all on the table. Knowing Justin, he'd take it out of context and think Harry had tampered with the ingredients; he never had quite forgiven him for second year.

Harry risked a glance at Snape to find the man already looking at him. He couldn't quite put a name to the expression on Snape's face. It was part consternation, part irritation, part something else that made Harry blush.

He quickly looked away and tried to appear busy with his potion, when in fact he had no idea what he was supposed to do at all.

"Here, cut these," Justin said, roughly pushing the aconite in Harry's direction. Harry took the plant with a wary gaze and set about putting on his gloves. He tried not to look up at Snape, but he couldn't help stealing the occasional glances and almost always the man was staring back at him.

~*~

  
Snape was feeling like an adolescent, the way he kept staring at Potter. It wasn't as if the boy had suddenly become more attractive, or even more desirable. Harry had, however, indicated in no uncertain terms that he wanted some kind of...relationship with him.

He had spent the majority of the night, going over it all in his mind, questioning his sanity. Seeing Harry bent over with his arse so invitingly close, Snape's mind went immediately to a place to which he had stubbornly closed the door.

And it wasn't like the blasted boy was helping his circumstances either. Every time he happened to steal a look at Potter, the boy was looking right back. He needed to distract himself.

Snape went to the back of the room, out of view of Potter and his damnable green eyes.

~*~

  
Harry smirked into his cuttings. He took great pleasure in knowing he had ruffled the unflappable Severus Snape. Merrily, he placed the aconite into the potion after Justin had put in the ginger root. The other seventh year made a grand show of stirring the ingredients in with the base, and Harry frowned. He wished he knew what he had done to cause such agitation in the other boy, but he doubted he'd ever know.

An hour later, Snape told them to bottle their potions and clean up their workstations. Justin took their potion to Snape while Harry began putting away their supplies. Harry took his time putting things away, and when he and Hermione finally left the class, he glanced back to find Snape watching him. Giving him a shy smile, Harry left, feeling altogether pleased with himself.

~*~

  
Harry was practically skipping as he made his way towards the dungeons for his next practice. Snape would be pleased with him, he was sure of it; he'd practiced and learned the first four bars, which was more than he could have hoped for. The music was complicated and he kept fumbling with his fingering, but he had been improving and then he had noticed the time.

He knocked on the door, and then entered with a bright smile, only to find that Snape wasn't behind his desk as usual. Curious, Harry shut the door behind him and walked beyond Snape's desk to the secret room they had been practicing in, only to find that empty as well.

Concerned and puzzled, Harry took out his violin and idly began twisting the pegs and testing the strings to make sure the instrument was in tune. Snape had never been late for these practices since they had started and worry began to creep up his spine. Minutes passed and Harry began to fidget. He took out his sheet music and placed it on the stand provided for him and began to play the same four bars he had been attempting to master earlier.

When Snape had to deal with a problem in the Slytherin common room, he hadn't planned on it taking so long. He heard the music as soon as he opened the door to his office. He was surprised to hear the opening bars to the song Harry was learning and not the scales he had been expecting.

He leaned on the door frame to the practice room and watched Harry who was completely focused on the sheet music in front of him. He was playing amazingly well for such a short period of practice. Snape knew the magic of the thrall had helped Harry learn quicker than most but he had to admit that the boy must have had some natural talent within him. He closed his eyes and listened as Harry played the same four bars over and over.

When Harry had progressed onto the next measure, he cleared his throat and caught his attention. Harry whipped his head around at the noise and offered him a dazzling smile, before lowering the violin.

"Did I do it right?" Harry asked a tad breathlessly.

Snape nodded and stepped further into the room. He went over and retrieved his own violin, tuning it carefully, knowing that Potter was watching his every move.

"Seriously? Because something sounded off in the third bar and I don't know what it was. And I thought maybe-"

His rambling died off as Snape started to play the same four measures he had just been running through. Harry looked down at his own instrument, wondering how he'd ever compare to that.

Snape stopped, looked at Harry and nodded toward the violin hanging limply in his hand. "You can't play it from there, Potter." He waited until Harry had the violin correctly positioned. "On three. One, two, three."

Harry struck the first chord, trying not to be intimidated playing side by side with Snape. He knew he was an extremely weak player in comparison, but he was surprised when he held his own, and something in his eyes must have shown this because Snape offered him what could only be called a reassuring smile. Harry almost stopped playing right there, his stomach flipping and his cheeks heating with pleasure.

They played in unison for nearly two minutes before Snape halted him. "Now listen," Snape said, and played the next four bars of the song. He repeated them twice, and then looked at Harry. "That is what I want you to work on for next time."

Harry blinked. "Is my lesson over?" he asked, his heart dropping a little.

Snape looked at him oddly. "Of course not, we've only just begun."

Harry stared at him in confusion. "Then what-?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "I'm not trying to get rid of you, Potter, I was merely telling you what is expected of you. Now begin," he said, sitting on a nearby stool and waiting for Harry to begin.

Harry sighed and picked up the self-inking quill lying on the stand. He etched in an accelerando he had failed to mark in the original copy of the music. He set the quill down and blew on the parchment to dry the ink, before silently tapping out the beat against his leg. He felt nervous with Snape looming over him watching him, and a couple of times he found himself tapping out the beat too long and scowled at his hand like it was it's own fault.

He was finally satisfied with himself, at least to a point; it could have been a half an hour later for all he knew. He repositioned the violin, drew in a deep breath and began to slowly – much slower than the music called for – play the fifth measure, careful not to rush the sixteenth notes. He really hated sixteen th notes, but there was nothing for it.

Snape let his eyes linger on Harry, studying him in ways he had never allowed himself to do. He was undoubtedly attractive, despite the hair sticking out at odd angles, and really, who was he to judge someone's hair. There was a reason the word greasy was involved in the majority of insults used by the students to describe him.

Harry was slender, which Snape did find appealing in a man. It would have been better if Harry was a bit older, but at least he was of legal age and he had lost most of his boyish looks already. If that was due to the pressures of war, Snape didn't know, but he was pleased to find he didn't see a twelve year old standing before him, but a man old enough to shave.

A man old enough to do any number of things.

Snape thought of the kiss they had shared under the lake, how responsive and hungry Harry was. His groin tightened as he remembered the feel of Harry against him, the way his body had arched and flexed, wanting more pressure, more friction.

More of him.

Sweet Merlin, he wanted Harry Potter. A small moan escaped his lips when his prick twitched and swelled, becoming achingly hard, once again making him feel like a teenager.

Harry hadn't been as absorbed as he had led Snape to believe. He had felt those keen eyes sizing him up since he started playing, but Snape hadn't made a sound until that soft moan. Harry's eyes fell shut and he dragged his bow across the violin in a keening way that was completely different from the music on the page. He stopped playing and looking up, meeting Snape's hungry gaze and his mouth went dry.

Licking his lips, he set his instrument on the stand, tilting it backwards so it was more like a table, before moving. He turned to face Snape with an expectant expression. He had been waiting for this, ever since class that afternoon, since the moment he had thought to blatantly tease the man in the closet.

Snape itched to touch him, to pull Harry to him. His fingers clenched at his side. "Tell me again that you're certain," Snape said, meeting Harry's eyes.

"I am," Harry murmured, taking a step closer.

Snape's breath nearly caught in his throat at the answering hunger he saw in Harry's eyes. He reached out and placed his hands on Harry's hips as he came to his feet. There was nothing slow or gentle about the kiss. It was all tongues and teeth as Snape pressed Harry backwards until they hit the wall.

Harry's hands slipped up and over Snape's shoulders and tangled in his long hair, pulling him even closer. He whimpered softly in the back of his throat as he arched forward, pressing himself up against Snape even as he was pressed back into the wall.

When Harry moaned, Snape nearly growled in response, pulling Harry's robes and shirt away from his neck to give himself better access to the tender flesh. He slid his other hand inside Harry's robes and under his shirt, his fingers light and teasing.

Harry moved into the touch with abandon, his head falling back against the wall when Snape's lips descended to his neck and collarbone. The fingers against his stomach were cold and the sensation was maddening. He fisted the back of Snape's robes, needing to grab hold of something.

Snape's hand inched down Harry's side to his waistband. He moved a long finger between the waistband and Harry's skin, knuckles brushing against his navel and the sparse hair leading downwards.

"Please," Harry whined.

Snape let his fingers explore lower, running along Harry's erection, relishing the feel of his hard prick throbbing against his hand.

"Touch me," Snape ordered, running his palm up and down the front of Harry's jeans.

"Fucking hell," Harry gasped, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of Snape's robes. He finally managed to get them undone and was happy to see that the outfit underneath had far less buttons and he made short work of those too. He trailed his fingers over pale flesh he had only seen twice before, and one of those times had been a blur. He looked up and found himself short of breath once again and he reached a hand behind Snape's neck and pulled his head down, before pressing his lips against the man's with a needy whimper.

His fingers started moving again and trailed lower over the impressive bulge in Snape's pants. He gasped when Snape surged forward, pressing him back once again against the cool wall behind him.

"Gods, yes," Snape hissed, undoing Harry's zip and sliding his hands inside his pants, wrapping long fingers around Harry's cock.

"Severus?"

Snape moaned against Harry's mouth before realizing his name hadn't come from Harry's lips.

Harry was so close to the edge that it didn't even matter that someone could walk through the door. He pulled Snape's mouth back demanding the required attention to finish off what they had started and Snape seemed willing to oblige. He squeezed Harry's aching prick and twisted and Harry shattered soundlessly in Snape's arms. He shuddered, his hips jerking sporadically and he clung to Snape as his legs threatened to give way beneath him.

Snape felt Harry spurting into his palm, and he was in equal parts triumphant, and murderous at whoever had interrupted them. "Just a minute," he snarled at whoever was waiting in his office. He removed his hand from Harry's pants, kissing him deeply one more time before pulling away.

"Wait here," he murmured, leaning in and kissing him one last time as he pulled out his wand. He cast a quick cleaning spell on his hand and did up the buttons on his robe with shaking fingers. When he decided he was presentable, he stormed from the room to deal with the foolish person outside.

"Ah, Severus, there you are," Dumbledore said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Headmaster," Snape acknowledged, wondering exactly what the man knew, and what he only thought he knew. "What can I do for you?"

"You've been avoiding me, Severus," Dumbledore said as Snape sat behind the desk.

Snape looked at him blandly. "No more than usual, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled at that. "Perhaps," he said, a comfortable armchair appearing across from Snape's desk. Dumbledore sat down, his eyes flickering to the door beyond then back to Snape. "It seems that young Mr. Potter had an interesting conversation with Cadmus."

Snape sneered. "Cadmus has turned in to quite the spy, Albus."

Dumbledore merely smiled.

"Potter told me of their conversation," Snape continued before Dumbledore could respond to the accusation.

"I take it the two of you have reached a decision then?" Dumbledore asked, his voice tinged with sadness.

Snape's hands clenched under his desk. "Would you like my resignation now, or would you like me to finish out the term?" Snape asked. "Regardless of what you do to me, I would hope that you will let Potter graduate. There's no reason to ruin his future completely."

Harry had been listening just behind the door the conversation, Snape's obvious irritation making him agitated, but the last thing Snape said smacked into his chest with enough force to make him want to hit something.

He opened the door, running a hand through his mussed hair and ignoring Dumbledore entirely in favor of glaring at Snape. "Will you stop saying you are going to ruin my future ? You are not ruining my bloody future!"

Snape spared him a glance before returning his attention to Dumbledore. "As I was saying, if you wish to fire me, I will not fight it."

Dumbledore sighed looking at the two of them. Harry had moved to stand behind Snape and his hand rested on the other man's shoulder. Albus wondered if they were even aware of the united front they projected.

Harry squeezed Snape's shoulder gently, unsure why he felt he needed to do this, only that he did. Snape covered his hand with one of his own and Harry almost jumped in surprise.

"Harry needs to finish his education, Albus; surely you see that," Snape said, willing to plead with the man to let Harry graduate.

"Severus, if you're quite finished telling me what to do, I will tell you what I plan to do," he said, holding up a hand. "Yes, Harry will graduate with the rest of his class. You are right; we will not make his future worse by making a spectacle of his life. As for you, Severus, you will complete the final months, and then, sadly, we will have to let you go," he said his voice full of regret.

Harry bit his lip and made to remove his hand from Snape's shoulder. This was his fault. Snape was losing his home because of him. However the moment he tried to remove his hand, Snape exuded pressure in a silent command to not move. Harry remained still, not quite able to meet the headmaster's calm, assessing gaze. He couldn't think of a single thing to say, except a soft, "Thank you, sir."

"It wouldn't be safe for Harry if we were to stay here. I already have other plans in motion for life beyond Hogwarts." Snape squeezed Harry's hand again, taking a strange warmth from his touch. "Is there anything else, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard as he gazed pensively at the two before him. "No, I just wanted to check in on you, and I can see that you are quite well."

"Never been better," Harry said smiling, feeling the need to make the old man understand that this was what he wanted.

Dumbledore smiled and rose from his chair, which immediately disappeared. "I trust you will both be discreet," he said, looking between the two of them. "Goodnight," he added, a sad smile on his face as he left the room.

"That was...odd," Harry said, licking his dry lips.

"I wish I could agree, but that was fairly standard for the Headmaster," Snape said, sighing. He had the urge to pull Harry into his lap, so he immediately got to his feet. "I think your lessons are done for the evening."

Harry rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and nodded, "Yeah, all right." He went back into the other room and picked his violin up off the stand and bent over to get its case. He managed with less grace than usual to get the instrument into place and shut the case with a click of the bottom latch and then the click of the top. He turned to see Snape once again watching him from the doorway and Harry's initial nervousness came back with a vengeance.

"Are you alright? With what happened here?" Snape asked, wondering if Harry had regrets now that the moment had passed.

"Yes, of course," Harry said uncertainty coloring his tone. "Why? Aren't you?"

"I'm fine, I assure you," he said, attempting to smile reassuringly. "Only sad that it was interrupted."

Harry grinned and looked away unable to hide his blush. He had almost forgotten that Snape hadn't finished.

"Me too," Harry admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Go to bed now, Harry. I shall see you tomorrow," Snape said, stepping forward and brushing back the hair on his forehead. He leaned in and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "Goodnight."

Harry's eyes flickered up to meet Snape's and he smiled. "Goodnight."

 **  
__  
**

**  
_Chapter Sixteen_   
**

Snape began bottling the Pepperup potion by habit, letting his mind wander to other things, Potter specifically.

Despite his lapse the week before, he had thus far managed to keep things from getting too physical between them. He knew Harry was confused, but he was afraid that if things were left to follow their natural course Potter would be bent over his desk, mated and marked. He had found that his self control where Potter was concerned was almost non-existent when the boy was kissing him, touching him, making those mewling noises that begged for more.

Snape wanted to maintain a modicum of propriety, out of respect for Dumbledore if nothing else. But it was getting more difficult with each passing day. His instincts were making him irritable. He would have to claim Harry as his mate soon, or he was afraid he would go mad. Either that or he'd end up coaxing Harry to the water and taking him down and claiming him that way.

Snape had promised himself he wouldn't let it come to that. Which meant he was going to have claim Potter and mark him the other way. He didn't know whether to be terrified or exhilarated.

He wasn't a virgin, but he wasn't exactly experienced either. The few quick and messy shags with Avery were just that. Quick and messy. Snape hadn't even gotten off the first time, and had done most of the work the second time to get himself off.

In order to claim Harry he would have to fuck him, not be fucked by him, and he didn't want Harry's first time to be as miserable as his own. Snape wondered if the school's library had any information on the subject, or if he was going to have to buy a book.

Either way, it was going to be humiliating.

~*~

  
Just because Snape had sent him a letter saying he was busy, didn't mean Harry had to heed it. He walked at a calm pace through the winding corridors and found himself outside the Potions classroom, someone was inside bustling about and at this hour it could only be one person.

Harry didn't bother knocking and slipped into the room unnoticed. He scanned the room, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from, when he realized it was beyond a door.

Walking swiftly between the desks, Harry made his way towards the door, but this time he hesitated outside it. It was one thing to barge into a public classroom, it was completely another to barge into someone’s personal labs. He settled on knocking instead and then stepped back to wait.

Snape scowled, putting his book in a drawer and slamming it shut. "What?" he snapped, spelling open the door.

Harry entered and shut the door behind him. "Did you miss me?" he asked, his grin threatening to split his face.

Snape swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. Harry was the last person he wanted to see at the moment, particularly considering the research he was currently doing. "I told you we couldn't meet tonight," Snape said, mouth going dry.

"As if that would have stopped me. I wanted to see you."

Snape scowled. "Did you ever stop to think that perhaps I didn't wish to see you?"

Harry froze and his stomach clenched. "No."

Snape sighed. "Stop looking so pathetic and sit down," he said, motioning to the chair across from him. He waited until Harry did as instructed, before grabbing an essay off the top of the stack he had been ignoring.

"Did you need something?" Snape asked, scanning the essay quickly and giving it a D before moving on to the next one.

"Not particularly, no." Harry shrugged and watched as Snape marked another essay he had barely even glanced at before tossing aside. "Do I have to need something to want to be around you?"

Snape looked at Harry in surprise. "I'm not accustomed to people seeking out my company. It's usually something to be avoided."

"Yeah, well, this is me we're talking about, I tend to do all sorts of things others don't or shouldn't."

"Indeed," Snape said, a smirk resembling a smile on his face. He turned his attention back to his essays, though he could feel Harry's eyes still on him.

The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think on them. "Are you a virgin?" Snape asked, not looking up from the parchment.

"Am I a what?"

"A virgin, Potter," Snape said, glancing at Harry, then back to his essay, trying to hide his own embarrassment. "Have you ever had sex?"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably on his seat and looked down at the floor. "No, I mean! I am a virgin, so no, I haven't." He glanced up to see Snape's shoulders shaking. "Don't laugh at me!"

"I wasn't laughing at you," Snape said, already picturing the disaster this was going to be.

Harry frowned, "It certainly looked like you were."

"I was laughing at the situation, not you," he said, burying his face in his hands.

"Why does it matter?"

Snape considered him for a moment, fighting the blush that was sure to accompany his next words. "On the bright side, you won't have any high expectations," he said, lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"High expectations for what?"

"I just asked if you were a virgin, what did you think I was talking about?" he bit out sarcastically.

Harry flushed and looked away again. "Oh."

"I don't want you to be...disappointed."

There was a moment of silence as Snape stared down at the parchment and Harry fingered the edge of his robes nervously.

"Sir?"

"What?"

"Why did you even ask in the first place?"

Snape pulled open his drawer and took out the book he had been perusing. He tossed it on the desk where it landed with a thump. "Because I don't want to screw it up!"

Harry leaned forward and read the title. He pulled back, his face bright red and he looked at the opposite wall.

Snape grabbed the book and shoved it back in the drawer, slamming the drawer harder than strictly necessary, causing Harry to jump. Snape scowled.

"You did realize that this," he motioned toward the drawer, "would be part of this contract, did you not?" he asked. It had just dawned on him that perhaps it hadn't crossed Harry's mind. He had responded to him in a sexual way, but a snog is quite a bit different than a shag.

"I thought it was," Harry muttered, rubbing his arm uncomfortably. "I just wasn't expecting it to come up so soon."

"It won't be that soon," Snape replied, disgruntled. "But it's going to happen eventually, and I'd rather not hurt you when it does."

"Oh."

"Oh," Snape repeated, frowning. "If you're not...Lord, this is awkward," he growled, wondering if he could bang his head on the desk without looking like a complete idiot.

"I’m sorry!" Harry cried frantically. "It's not like I haven't --you know...thought about it."

Snape let out a small breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "It's good to know you're capable of thought," Snape said, falling back on sarcasm. "Are you opposed to the idea?"

"N-no," Harry stammered.

"You could sound more certain."

He scowled. "You could be less sarcastic."

"Forget I brought it up," Snape replied tiredly. "Have you been practicing?"

"Yeah, I've been pissing off the guys in the dorm though because they want 'alone time'."

"You can practice in the room off my office if you wish," Snape said, waving towards the entrance of his lab. "You won't be bothered."

"You mean it?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's fine," he said, picking up another essay, scanning it quickly and writing a D.

Harry grinned and settled back into his chair and pulled up his feet so he was sitting on them.

"Have your studies been suffering?" Snape asked, tilting his head to the side and examining Harry.

"I don't think so; Hermione seems to think I'm improving though." Harry shrugged.

"I meant your schoolwork. I'm well aware of your musical achievements," Snape said, grabbing another essay.

"Git. That's what I meant."

Snape looked at Harry, brow arched. "Tone, Potter," he warned.

Harry laughed and stuck out his tongue.

"So pleased to know I still have your respect," Snape smirked in response.

Harry grinned, bowing his head in embarrassment. Just a few weeks ago, if he had said something like that, he would have been given a tongue lashing. He pulled out his wand and fiddled with it between his fingers. Ever since his talk with Ron and Hermione the week before he had been doing a lot of thinking on his circumstances. At first he had refused to believe he loved Snape, or hell even liked the man. But he did – at least he thought he did – he liked him at the very least and that was more than he could say for three months ago.

He watched as Snape scrawled something on the bottom of the parchment he was grading, admiring the fluid way he moved the quill. Harry still found himself accidentally pressing too hard and creating dots of ink where they were unwelcome. Snape seemed to have a firm mastery of the writing implement and Harry watched almost hypnotized as he wrote a few more comments before giving the poor unsuspecting student their grade and circling it.

It was odd, he realized, as Snape moved on to the next essay, that he felt at ease in this situation, even after being totally humiliated a few moments before. Harry propped his head on his hand and watched through hooded eyes the graceful script being formed. If Snape found it strange that Harry was admiring his hands, he wasn't saying anything about it.

Harry wondered if his staring was bothersome. He, personally, didn't like it when someone was reading over his shoulder, but by the same token, Harry wasn't exactly reading over Snape's shoulder either. He tore his gaze away from what Snape was writing and looked around him. Unlike Snape's office, this room wasn't filled with nasty jars; it was surprisingly orderly and sterile. But like the Potion's classroom itself it was dank and Harry suspected the walls would be damp if he touched them.

"Are we really under the lake, sir?"

Snape lay down his quill. "This room is near the edge of the lake," he said, sounding every bit a professor teaching a student. "This room stays fairly dry year round, but the rooms deeper into the lake are quite damp, uncomfortably so to most people." His voice became almost nostalgic. "There are a few rooms in which I grow more obscure types of fungus, as the environment is perfect for it. If they didn't belong to the school, I could sell them for quite a high price. When I'm not able to leave the school and go into the lake itself, I can often find a small measure of contentment in those damp rooms." His voice trailed off to a whisper as he lifted his hand, turning it this way and that. "It's so dark you can hardly see the hand in front of your face."

Harry rubbed his cheek in an anxious manner. "I'm sorry."

Snape blinked, his attention returning to the present. "Whatever for?"

Harry bit his lip and picked at the edge of the table before him. "It's my fault."

Snape frowned. "That may be true, but I'm finding that I'm not displeased with the result," he said, realizing as he said it that it was true. He knew that it couldn't last, that eventually the pull of the water would become too much, but for now he was oddly content. A part of him had already accepted that Harry was, for all intents and purposes, his mate, whether he had marked him yet or not.

Snape couldn't say he was in love with Harry, but recent events had certainly allowed the boy closer to him than very few could ever get. Of the few who knew his secret, none had ever been in the water with him, and none save Albus and Draco had seen his true form. A part of him reveled in the fact that Harry had seen him and hadn't been appalled or repulsed. He'd actually seemed in awe. In his dreams, he still heard the word Harry had whispered.

 _Beautiful_.

In the space of a heartbeat, longing and arousal flowed through his veins. He may not be in love with Potter, but the voice in the back of his mind told him it was inevitable. "It's not too late for you to walk away," Snape said softly.

"And miss out on all the bickering?" Harry asked, his smile slowly returning. "Never."

Snape snickered, lowering his head to hide the smile of triumph on his face.

 **  
_Chapter Seventeen_   
**

Snape opened his eyes as the last note died away, a small smile on his lips. Harry was looking at him nervously.

"Was it horrible?" Harry asked, gnawing on his lower lip.

"It wasn't perfect, you'll still have to practice," he said, moving to stand in front of Harry. He brought up a hand, cupping Harry's face and running a long thumb over his cheek. "But you have it now, the rhythm, the cadence, the notes." He ran his hand down Harry's neck, resting it on his chest. "It's here, in your heart."

 _And you're free of me, if you choose to go._

"You've done well, Harry."

Harry swallowed and raised the hand gripping his bow to cover Snape's hand. "What happens now?"

Snape stepped away, putting some distance between them. "Now you concentrate on your exams," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "The rest can wait until you've completed them."

 _And you can decide if this is what you want when the compulsion is no longer there._

"Bloody exams. Are they really as hard as everyone's making them out to be?" Harry asked, sitting down on the floor in a sulk.

Snape chuckled. "They aren't called "Nastily Exhausting" for nothing, Potter. With the amount of time you've spent sitting in the armchair in my office studying, you'll do fine. Though I'm not at all certain I'll be able to get the marks from your trainers off the arm. Why you couldn't use the library like the rest of your friends is beyond me," he added, gathering up the leaves of parchment.

"Because I enjoy spending time with you," Harry quipped, running a finger along the purfling of the violin, the inlaid wood smooth to the touch. "I spend all my other time with them, studying only brings tension and I rather like getting along with my friends. As long as I'm studying it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"As long as you do well on your exams it doesn't matter," Snape argued, straightening the sheaf of parchments he was holding. "The better your scores, the -"

"- the better my opportunities will be in the future, yes, I think you've pointed that out before once or twice. Or ten times."

"Cheeky."

Harry grinned and set aside the violin and then stretched out his legs in front of him. It was the middle of May and he was more than glad that he got to spend time in the dungeons. It was no wonder the Slytherins always looked collected on the hotter days, they were in the coolest part of the castle.

He wiggled his bare feet, enjoying the way the cool from the floor seeped into his skin. His jeans were rolled up to just under his knees and he had forgone his school shirt for a casual t-shirt. The Gryffindor Tower was sweltering today and he was just glad to be out of there for a little while.

"Merlin, you're lucky," he muttered, wanting to just lie on the floor and soak in the damp coolness.

"You'll have to be more specific, as there are so many things for which I'm lucky," Snape said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You live underground, you great bat," Harry grumbled, his eyes falling shut as he leaned backwards onto his palms. "Heat rises, we lions feel it all."

"Oh, but you suffer it all so nobly," Snape smirked. "Do you plan on spending the rest of the evening on my floor?" Snape asked.

"Maybe," Harry answered, grinning up at him. "Will you play for me?" he asked, before Snape could shut away his instrument.

"Demanding brat," Snape said, scowling at Harry, which only made Harry smile wider, since he was taking out his violin as well.

Harry watched as Snape tested the strings, making sure they were still perfect despite the fact he had just put it away and it was perfectly tuned not ten minutes ago.

Snape raised his bow, looking at Harry speculatively before making his song choice. Then he began to play.

Harry cocked his head to the side, his gaze never leaving Snape's as he played the intro of the song. Light, airy music drifted through the cool dungeons easing away Harry's earlier restlessness. He licked his lips as the music swelled and filled the rooms, before changing abruptly. Harry was ripped from his reverie and thoughts of the middle of summer as the notes went from sweet and gentle to sad, almost as if it was an entirely different song.

He sat up and leaned forward, watching the relaxed expression on Snape's face change to careworn and tired. Harry stood up, unsure if what he was about to do would cause more harm than good. He took four steps forward and laid a hand on Snape's wrist, preventing him from playing a note more of that painful music.

Snape looked at Harry's hand on his wrist, then back to his face. "What are you doing?" he asked confused. He had become accustomed to Harry's habit of touching him at odd moments, but that usually only happened when he was leaving for the night. Normally, Harry practically begged for one more song when Snape stopped playing. "What's the matter?"

Harry shook his head and enveloped Snape in a hug before he could protest. Frowning, Snape held his violin with one hand, and awkwardly patted Harry on the back with the other, his bow dangling from his fingers, hitting the back of Harry's thighs with each pat. "Are you all right?"

"I should be asking you that," Harry answered, his face muffled in Snape's shirt.

Snape reached around to set his bow on a table, then slid his fingers into Harry's hair. Snape found he liked having Harry there, face buried in his neck. There was nothing sexual to it, it just felt comfortable, not to mention comforting.

"I'm perfectly fine," he said, though it felt like a lie on his tongue.

Harry pulled his head back and looked him in the eyes. "I don't believe you."

Snape's frown deepened as he realized he didn't believe it himself. Feelings were not something he dwelt on. If his emotions began to get out of control, he would play, expunging them until the next time the need arose.

Was that was he had just done? He replayed the song in his head, finding the subtle shift as one song weaved in to another, sadder song. "I didn't realize," he said, more to himself than Harry.

Harry gripped the back of Snape's shirt lightly and stood on tiptoes to plant a kiss on the corner of the man's mouth.

"What's wrong?" he whispered as he pulled back.

Snape shook his head. "One moment." He pulled Harry closer so he could set the violin safely out of the way. When he moved back, he decided he'd rather liked Harry where he was. He wrapped arms around Harry, and his face once again buried itself in Snape's neck. Snape inhaled deeply. The scent of Harry in his chair, or in his room, was one he associated with contentment.

"I don't know what's wrong," Snape answered, his mind reeling. _I'm afraid you'll leave. I'm afraid I will have lost you, lost Hogwarts, and my water home._ Snape knew to lose one would be devastating, but to lose them all at once would brutal. It was a blow he would not be able to come back from.

"That’s okay." Even though Harry wasn’t sure it was.

"I believed everything to be fine, but I'm beginning to question that belief," Snape said, his fingers curling and uncurling in Harry's hair. "Do you still plan on staying?" he asked softly.

"With you?"

"Yes." Snape hadn't understood how much it would cost him if Harry decided to leave, but now he knew. He doubted he would live out the next two months.

"Yeah I do," answered Harry, before he added in a hurried tone, "if you still want me to."

"Why I would want an insufferable brat under foot is beyond me, but it has become clear to me that yes, I want you too. If I'm going to try and break free of this place and the lake's hold on me, I'm going to need you. Does that frighten you?"

Harry gulped, and buried his face further against Snape's neck, and then mumbled, "Just a bit, yeah."

"I can't promise that this will work, that I won't be drawn back eventually. I don't want to hurt you, Harry, you do understand that?" Snape asked, leaning back to look into Harry's eyes.

Harry nodded, yes he did understand. Snape told him enough that he didn't intend to hurt him, but Harry couldn't help but think that he'd be crushed if Snape left, whether he meant to hurt him or not.

"Could I stay down here, just for tonight," Harry asked, afraid that if he left now, Snape would be gone, trying to save Harry from him. Harry wasn't about to let that happen.

"Do you mean in my quarters?" Snape asked, surprised.

"No, I meant here, on the floor, in the room off your office, where anyone can come by." He rolled his eyes. "Yes, your quarters."

Snape was about to tell him no, but he couldn't seem to manage it. It would be nice to have Harry here, just for one night. One night of peace and contentment, something they both needed.

"Very well. Get that house elf you're so friendly with, Gobby, Sobby, whatever he's called, to get whatever you might need," Snape said. It was hard to explain his emotions in that moment. A part of him knew this was wrong, but what was Dumbledore going to do, fire him? Oh wait, he had already done that. Another part of him felt a thrill run through him to be doing something he shouldn't be doing. And then there was Potter himself. He wondered if he could coax him into his bed with the promise of no sex. He suddenly, desperately, wanted Harry in his bed.

Harry beamed at him and tackled him in a hug. He burrowed his head under the man's chin before pulling back and speeding off.

Snape smiled after him, and then went to quarters to put things in order.

~*~

  
Harry raced up the steps barely resisting the urge to whoop. Snape had actually agreed with him, he had said yes! He couldn't wait to get back down there.

He slowed down in case another teacher caught him running and when he was certain he was in the clear, he picked up the pace again and jogged towards the kitchens. He reached up and tickled the pear.

He'd only gone a few steps inside before Dobby was in front of him, wringing his hands in excitement. "Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is so happy to see you!"

Harry grinned widely. "Hullo, Dobby."

"Is Harry Potter hungry?" Suddenly Harry's favorite foods began appearing in platters on the nearby table.

"No, I'm all right," Harry said quickly. "Thanks though," he added, seeing the downcast expression on the house elf's face. "Actually I came to ask you a favor."

"Anything for you Harry Potter, sir."

Harry smiled encouragingly. "Do you think you could go and swipe a pair of pajamas and a change of clothes from my trunk and bring them to Professor Snape's quarters?"

"Professor Snape does not like Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said, eyes wide in confusion.

"Nah, he does, he just hides it really well. Do you think you could do this for me, Dobby?"

"Of course Dobby could do it, sir, Dobby would love to help Harry Potter, but is Harry Potter sure he wants his clothes in Professor Snape's quarters sir?" Dobby lowered his voice. "Dobby doesn't want Harry Potter to get in trouble."

"I promise, nobody is going to get in trouble, will you please just do it?" Harry asked, beginning to feel irritated. He just wanted to get this sorted so he could get back to Snape's.

"Yes sir, Dobby would be honored, sir."

And with a loud crack that sounded like blessed relief to him, the house elf disappeared. Harry rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face. His earlier high had diminished while talking to the anxious creature, but returned the second he exited the kitchens. With a skip in his step, he headed back towards the dungeons.

He was slightly breathless and lightheaded when he reached the door to Snape's office. Harry forced himself to stop and take a few deep breaths. He was excited but he didn't want Snape to know just how excited he really was. The last thing he wanted to do was seem like a kid at Christmas, though Harry had never looked forward to a Christmas as much was he was looking forward to this.

Once he got his breathing back under control and his smile down to a minimum, he entered the office. Faint strains of violin music came from beyond the closed door behind Snape's desk, and Harry idly wondered if Snape had forgotten to put up a silencing charm. Without bothering to knock, he opened the door just a bit and peered inside.

He watched in stunned silence as the man swayed back and forth to the lively tempo and Harry grinned. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to join Snape in playing that song, just to feel the rush of the music the way Snape seemed to be. Quietly, he entered the room and shut the door behind him, but the second the latch clicked into place Snape opened his eyes and stared right at him. The music didn't stop however and when Snape nodded towards Harry's violin case, he made a mad dash for it. Flicking it open, he pulled out the instrument and tightened the pegs just a bit.

Testing it, he discovered the sound was a bit high, but it would be perfect for what he was about to do. It had been a while since Harry had been allowed to harmonize with Snape on any piece, let alone one he didn't actually know. That little fact didn't bother him at all as he waited for a pause in the music to join in.

From the first note Harry played, he was in a whole different world. All that existed was the music and Snape, and both belonged to him. It was euphoria such as he had never known; better than being drunk, better than he imagined sex could be, because nothing could be as amazing as the music they were playing.

He laughed as he played along, drawing closer to Snape with each passing second. Lost in a daze, he spun around in childish delight, all thoughts of propriety or proper playing disappearing from his mind.

Snape could practically feel the joy radiating from Harry, feeding the music, making it expand and grow until he was smiling, watching Harry dance around the room like a nymph. Snape might have even laughed, but if he did, the music drowned it out. For this, he could walk away from the water, away from Hogwarts, away from everything, as long as he had Harry and their music.

It wasn't until five minutes later that they stopped playing, Harry falling in a breathless, beaming mass on the floor, and Snape carefully setting his instrument on the table.

"That was..." Harry panted, turning his head to the side where he laid on the floor so he could see Snape better, "completely brilliant."

Snape smiled, carefully putting away his violin, eyes never leaving Harry. "That was something I never could have achieved on my own," he admitted, still feeling awed. "It was spectacular."

Harry gazed up at the ceiling with a content smile, his violin lying on the floor beside him.

"Was it really?" he laughed, pillowing his head on his hands.

Snape clicked the buckles on his violin case. "Yes, it was," he said, lovingly running a finger across the cracked leather. "How is it you keep ending up on my floor?" he asked, amused.

"Well," Harry said holding up a hand. He ticked off the first finger with a grin. "The first time was because I was too damn hot and it felt nice." He counted off the second finger with relish. "This time was because I just experienced something so entirely incredible I couldn't help but fall over."

Snape chuckled. "If you can bear to leave it behind, you could try sitting on the couch in my quarters like a normal human being. Unless, of course, you prefer the floor. I'm sure we could make you up a bed right here if you'd like," he added, smirking.

Harry sat up rapidly. "A couch is good. Couches are nice," he stressed, jumping to his feet.

"Remind me that you're not allowed anything with sugar in it tonight," Snape said, eying him warily. "Come along then, to the inner sanctum which few have left alive." Snape's smile betrayed his mood.

"Ominous," Harry mused as he grasped Snape's hand. "Lead on then."

Snape allowed their fingers to interlace as he led Harry to his private quarters, curious about how he'd react when he saw the place.

"How far into the dungeons are your quarters," Harry teased once they had been walking for a few minutes.

"Far enough that I don't hear a sound, and deep enough under the lake that I feel more at home," Snape answered. "See that junction at the end of the hall? Straight will take you right to the lake. To the right are my quarters."

"What's to the left?"

"My pots full of souls. Please don't disturb them."

Harry laughed.

~*~

  
It took them at least another minute to reach Snape's quarters and another fifteen seconds for the man to pronounce his own password. Harry looked at him like he was crazy, and perhaps he was.

The room wasn't at all like Harry had expected. Well, it was dark, he had expected that, but assumed it would be all done up in silver and greens. Instead, it was blues and blacks, alternately soothing and arousing, cool and peaceful.

Harry looked around. "It's perfect for you!"

"I take that to mean you like it?"

"It's perfect," Harry repeated, squeezed Snape's hand once, and then released it.

"Can I get you something? Tea? Butterbeer?" Snape asked politely.

"Tea, please."

Snape went to the kitchen and put together a tea service and went to join Harry on the couch.

"You're not in here very much, are you?" Harry asked after a long, but comfortable, silence.

Snape took in the room through Harry's eyes. No clutter, everything in its place, barely used furniture. Books neatly shelved. "No, I'm really not," Snape admitted.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered, looking down at his folded hands.

"Potter-"

"No, hear me out," Harry interrupted. "I'm sorry that I got you fired and that you have to leave your home, but I'm..." he paused, glancing at Snape out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not sorry I started this mess, at least not anymore."

Snape touched Harry's leg until he finally met his gaze, but found himself at a loss for words.

The song they had played tonight was beyond anything Snape had ever experienced, and he couldn't be sorry for that. The only thing he was sorry for was that one day he may have to choose between Harry and the water, and he wasn't sure he would be able to choose Harry. For that he was sorry.

"I'm finding it difficult to be sorry at the moment," Snape said, smiling softly.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"I could have done things differently," Snape said, removing his hand from Harry's leg. "I should have fought against my instincts, but," he shrugged helplessly. "I've fought it my whole life. I was selfish and I didn't want to fight it any longer. I'm sorry."

"I’m glad you didn't," Harry said, his lips quirked into a shy smile as he nudged Snape's arm.

Snape cleared his throat and looked away. "I suppose I should inquire as to where you wish to sleep tonight," he said, not wanting to put pressure on Harry to share his bed.

Harry pushed his palm into the forgiving material of the couch cushion. "Here, I guess."

"I could transfigure it into a bed if you'd like," Snape offered, trying to ignore the disappointment he felt.

"Nah, I'm good."

Snape nodded and stood. "I'll get you some bedding," he said, leaving Harry alone for a few minutes.

Harry frowned as Snape left the room. Had he done something wrong? He couldn't imagine what though, and it wasn't like Snape was actually being cold either – well, any colder than usual. There was something he was missing that was important, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

It had been perfectly understandable of him not to wish to trouble Snape with transfiguring the couch, hadn't it? Doubt crept into the corner of his mind and he was unable to shake it. Harry knew he was quite possibly being stupid about this, but the manner in which Snape had abruptly left the room didn't sit well with his earlier good mood.

He wanted… well Harry couldn't say what he wanted. He still didn't know. Harry cared for Snape, he could safely say that much. But was that it? Harry examined his fingernails and then the floor trying to sort out what was wrong with him.

Hermione called it love, Ron called it love, but Harry didn't want to accept that, did he? Could he love Snape and be happy knowing Snape couldn't possibly love him back? It was clear to him that without his own big mistake Snape would never have been treating him this way. It was all the Nix's doing. Instincts, as Snape kept putting it. The same instincts that would inevitably drive Snape from him back to the lake. The same instincts that made Snape want to be with him in the first place.

His throat constricted as he came to the realization that Snape never liked him for him, but liked him because his Nix instincts told him to. Harry shook his head in denial, not wanting to believe his own mind. If it had been all instinct then surely Snape would have been nice from the start, right?

Now here he was in Snape's austere living quarters and he hadn't the foggiest idea of what to do. He fingered the edge of the couch nervously waiting for Snape to come back. None of this helped him understand why Snape had appeared put out; but then, he couldn't very well just ignore it either. None of it. His suspicions and doubts couldn't be put on hold, not even for that one night. He had to know if Snape was being 'nice', or as nice as Snape could be, because he wanted to or because something was forcing him to be so.

When Snape returned with the bedding, which consisted of a blanket, two sheets and a pillow, Harry couldn't meet his eye. His heartbeat raced as he stared at the gray stone floor and then blurted out, "Why did you agree to let me stay here tonight?"

Snape looked at him, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "Because you asked, and because I wanted you to," Snape answered, not sure what the boy was looking for.

"Did you?"

Snape frowned. What on earth had happened when he left the room? "Of course. Why are you asking this now?"

"No reason. Thank you for the bedding," he said, attempting to change the subject.

"There is obviously a reason or you wouldn't have asked," Snape replied, his frown deepening. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing! Really, it's...it's nothing," Harry trailed off, hugging the pillow that had been brought for him.

"Have you changed your mind about staying?" Snape asked, confused.

Harry blinked and looked up at Snape, shaking his head. "No, I do want to stay."

Snape studied him intently. Harry looked unsure and embarrassed and Snape was completely clueless as to why. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! I just...I started thinking-"

"A dangerous hobby."

Harry blushed and gazed at his lap. "And it was stupid, I'm being stupid. I'm sorry."

Sighing, Snape sat down next to Harry, pulling the pillow away so that he couldn't hide behind it. "If something is wrong, I'd like to know what," he said quietly, wondering how he could have ballsed things up already.

"Do you like me?"

Snape was taken aback, unsure of how to answer. "If I didn't enjoy your company, I hardly would have agreed to let you stay here tonight. I wouldn't have agreed to any of it for that matter. What brought this on?"

"It's just...how?"

"How do I like you?"

"How _can_ you like me?"

Snape blinked. "I'm not sure I understand," he said, frowning.

"You hated me. You hated me as long as I can remember, right up until I...well.... How can you like me?"

"I didn't hate you, I just didn't particularly like you," Snape said. "If I hated you, I never would have accepted your offerings. The fact that I did so, should tell you something."

"You said earlier it was your instincts."

"Yes, it was my instincts that guided my actions," Snape said, and Harry's face fell. "But if I felt nothing for you, if I hated you, I never would have chosen you."

"I...oh." Harry flushed and squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. That made a lot of sense when he thought about it.

"I won't lie to you, Potter...Harry. I was angry when all this started. Angry at you for being where you shouldn't. Angry at myself for not being more careful. I even told myself that when I accepted your offering it was out of spite, as a way of punishing you. But I was lying to myself," Snape said, voice trailing off.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek so he didn't say what he was thinking. It was best that he didn't mention it had felt like a punishment, at least not now.

"So you don't hate me then?"

"No, I don't hate you," Snape said, unwilling to voice what emotions he did feel for Harry.

Harry grinned crookedly. "Well, that's a relief."

Snape smiled awkwardly. "Have you finished moping? Or-"

A knocking on the door interrupted Snape before he could finish. Frowning, he looked at Harry, who was looking back at him in wide-eyed panic. Snape pointed to a door which Harry assumed was his bedroom. "Wait in there."

Nodding, Harry hurried to the other room and closed the door. When he was out of sight, Snape opened the door to find Dumbledore waiting on the other side.

Harry strained to hear who the visitor was from behind the bedroom door, but all the sound was muffled. He sank down to the floor and rested his head against the wooden door, his ear pressed against it in a half-hearted attempt at hearing the proceedings in the other room. Whoever it was, he just hoped they left, and soon.

A few minutes later, Snape opened the door to the bedroom. "He's gone, you may come out now," Snape said wearily.

"Who was it?" Harry asked, concerned by the look of exhaustion on Snape's face. It wasn't there earlier.

"The headmaster," Snape said, returning to the couch and sitting down. He propped his feet up on the table in front of him.

Harry frowned. "Is everything ok?"

Snape shrugged. "He knows you're here and he isn't pleased, but he's not going to interfere. He knows it's too late for that."

"Why is he so against this?"

Snape snorted. "I'm sure if you asked him, he'd be more than happy to tell you. If you were wise, you'd be against this as well."

"That's a really crafty way of calling me stupid," Harry pointed out.

"If I were attempting to be crafty you wouldn't know I was calling you stupid," Snape said, smirking. "That was just honesty." He reached out and took Harry's hand to let him know he was teasing.

"You know, I think that might have hurt."

"Life is full of pain, you'd best get used to it."

"Do I have to?" Harry whined, pouting in an exaggerated manner.

"On second thoughts, no; one of us should still have his delusions," Snape said before yawning. "Are you ready for bed?"

"I need to change and I don't think Dobby has brought my stuff down yet."

"Ah, that would probably be the pile of clothing that appeared earlier. I've put them in my bedroom." _I had rather hoped that's where you would be sleeping._ "You may use it to change if you wish."

Harry smiled and nodded as he stood up. His hand slipped from Snape's as he moved away from the couch towards the bedroom he had just been in. The room was dark as the sky outside and that made it near impossible for Harry to find his way around once he had shut the door. He pulled out his wand and uttered a soft, " _Lumos_ ".

He saw his clothing in a neat stack on Snape's bed and hesitated. Earlier he hadn't had the chance to really look around, too afraid of being caught and then thrown out on his ear. Now, he got the chance to actually observe his surroundings. Snape's room, he discovered sadly, was just an extension of his living room, the same peaceful colors as in there; even Snape's bed covers were a blue tone – dark blue, but blue nevertheless. There was a picture on his bedside table and Harry went over and picked it up.

While Harry was changing, Snape went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth and went about his normal nightly routine. When he was done, Harry still hadn't come out of the bedroom. Snape knocked on the door and poked his head inside.

Harry spun around, hid the photo he'd been gazing at behind his back, and attempted to look innocent or at least less guilty than he felt.

Snape stepped into the room, frowning. "What are you doing?"

"N-nothing," he stuttered, attempting to set the photo down on the table without making it obvious.

Snape went to Harry and reached around him, removing the picture from his grasp. He looked between Harry and the picture before setting it back on his nightstand. "I know you're dying of curiosity, so just ask."

"That's your mum, isn't it?"

Snape nodded. "Yes, that is my mother," he said, glancing at the picture fondly.

Harry gazed down at the picture of the black-haired woman. "She's pretty."

"She was beautiful," Snape said softly as he stared at the photo of his mother. If his father hadn't destroyed her, she would still be beautiful. Beautiful and alive.

The woman in the picture stared up at them and glanced at Harry with curiosity masked by a frown, before smiling gently at Snape. Harry watched the way Snape ran an idle finger over his mother's face and the reminiscent smile that bloomed on his face as he did so.

"She's dead?"

"Yes," Snape answered, abruptly turning away from the photo. There were things there he did not wish to think about tonight.

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat and placed his hand on Snape's arm. "Are you all right?"

Snape nodded absently. It was if his mother was telling him to be careful, to think twice before tying his life up with Potter. But it was too late for second thoughts, far too late.

Harry let his hand linger for a second more, before maneuvering around Snape to grab his clothes off the bed.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, before taking an uncertain step backwards and then leaving the room.

Snape sat on the bed, his eyes drawn to the picture of his mother. She was looking at him in concern, and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to face her curious gaze. He wanted to turn the picture to the wall so she didn't have to watch his life spiral out of his control.

He did nothing but stare back at her, hoping she would understand his choice.

Harry scrubbed his face and stared into the bathroom mirror, unhappy about what he saw staring back. His face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were cracking, very appealing. He rubbed his nose and scowled at his reflection before hurriedly putting on his clothes. It was one thing to keep Snape waiting once, he wasn't about to leave him alone to stew.

Throwing on his top, he headed back out into the main room as he tied off the drawstrings on his pajama pants. Snape was sitting on his bed where Harry had left him not so long ago.

"Are you sulking?" he asked, throwing as much incredulity into his tone as possible.

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous," Snape groused. "Did the elf bring you everything you needed?"

"Yeah, he did." Harry shifted nervously from foot to foot. "I'll just go and set up the sofa then."

Snape looked at him, considering. In the end, he merely sighed. "Do you need assistance?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I think I'm capable of putting a sheet around couch cushions."

"All right. Help yourself to whatever you need. You may leave my door open if you wish."

Harry made an aborted move forward, but then stopped and smiled. "All right then. Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Potter," Snape said, smiling wearily.

 **  
_Chapter Eighteen_   
**

Harry couldn't say what it was that woke him up in the middle of the night. One second he had been in a deep sleep, the next his eyes were open and alert. He sat up with a weary groan and waited for his eyes to adjust to the intense darkness. There was no sound coming from Snape's bedroom or any of Snape's rooms save the steady dripping from the bathroom sink.

Sliding out from beneath the covers, Harry let his bare feet hit the cold floor. He hissed and retracted them almost immediately. Slower this time, he put his feet back on the ground, wincing at the sharp spike of cold.

He was tired; he knew that much for certain. His eyelids were heavy, his eyes burned, and he felt like he was moving through gelatin, yet, sleep evaded him. Was it so much to ask for one night of solid sleep? He felt safe, logically he knew he was safe, but here he was sitting up on Snape's couch listening to the soft drip-drip-drip from the sink.

He got to his feet and soundlessly crossed the main room. Harry paused outside Snape's open bedroom door and peered inside. He could just make out the man's outline in his bed. He stood there for an indecisive minute, wondering if he'd get chewed out when he entered.

"Don't just stand there, Potter," Snape muttered groggily.

Harry jumped at the unexpected voice and went forward until his legs hit the edge of the bed.

"I’m sorry I woke you, sir. I couldn't sleep."

Snape sat up on his elbow, squinting into the darkness at Harry. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll just go back now." He took a hesitant step backwards. "I'm really sorry I woke you."

"Harry, what is it?" Snape asked, pulling himself up into a sitting position. The blanket pooled around his waist as he tried to see Harry's expression in the dark.

"I just couldn't fall back to sleep," Harry admitted sheepishly.

Snape readjusted his pillows so he could lie against them. "Sit down so I don't have to keep looking up at you," Snape groused.

Harry crawled onto the bed and sat in the middle on his knees. He gazed at Snape, trying to figure out if he was angry, but the darkness only let him see the man's outline.

"I am really sorry I woke you up."

"I wasn't sleeping well anyway," Snape said dismissively, "so stop apologizing. Did you have a nightmare?"

"No. I-no. No, I didn't. I don't think I dreamed at all."

"Would you like to sleep in here?" Snape asked softly, trying to keep his voice even.

Harry turned his head away before answering, "Yeah. I'd like that."

Snape shifted a bit and pulled back the covers. "Get in then before you catch a chill."

Harry scrambled across the bed and slipped beneath the covers, trying not to grin. If he needed a good excuse, the bed being warmer than the couch was the best one he had. It was true too. He felt his freezing cold toes begin to warm the second they were under the blankets.

"Merlin, Potter, did you encase your feet in blocks of ice?" Snape asked, feeling the iciness radiating from him. Snape took his wand from his bedside and cast a spell to warm to the blankets. "You do know you're a wizard, don't you?" he asked, tossing his wand down.

"Yes, but my feet weren't cold when I went to sleep, as a matter of fact they were fine until they touched your floor," Harry grumbled, rolling onto his side to face Snape. "Is it always this cold at night?"

"I suppose it is, I don't notice it anymore," Snape said, interlacing his fingers behind his head. "I've got some slippers you can wear in the morning if you'd like."

"You have slippers?" Harry snickered.

"Of course," Snape answered. "I happen to be civilized," he said airily. He rolled onto his side so he was facing Harry. He took in Harry's features in the dark, and smiled lazily, though he doubted Harry could see it. "And I learned in my first year teaching here that my feet would probably freeze and fall off if I didn't invest in a warm pair of slippers."

"So these slippers are what? Ancient?" Harry teased sleepily.

"Just because they are made of stone it does not make them ancient," Snape replied, smiling into the dark.

Harry murmured something in response as he burrowed his head into the pillow. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry," Snape murmured, and soon, both were sound asleep.

~*~

  
The next morning came faster than Harry would have liked it to. However, he couldn't really tell for certain that it was morning because it was still dark in Snape's rooms, but something told him it had to be the morning. Something also told him he was warmer than he should be. He opened his eyes and found his head buried under Snape's armpit.

Blushing, he attempted to move away, but soon discovered he couldn't. Their legs were tangled beneath the covers and Harry was effectively trapped.

"Stop fidgeting," Snape rasped softly, tightening his hold on Harry. He wasn't quite awake, but he was comfortable, and Potter was going to ruin it if he kept squirming.

A moment later, his eyes flashed open and he slackened his hold on Harry.

Harry shuffled backwards and gazed up at Snape through hooded eyes. "Morning," he said, his cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

"Good morning," Snape replied, frowning at how quickly Harry had shuffled away. "I didn't mean to...I'm...morning."

Harry felt bad now. He had only moved because he thought Snape didn't like it. Clearly he was wrong. Nervously, he scooted closer again until one of his hands was pressing against Snape's side.

"This all right?" he asked.

Snape nodded, relaxing a bit. This was much easier in the middle of the night, half asleep in a pitch-black room. "Were you able to sleep?"

"I was," Harry said sounding surprised. "Were you?"

"Yes, I slept well actually," Snape said. _Very well_. And now that he was awake, he didn't wish to leave the bed quite yet.

Harry curled his fingers into Snape's shirt and relaxed back on the bed. Snape wasn't yelling at him for waking up practically molded to his side and he wasn't brushing him off either.

"Sir?"

"Harry, you're in my bed, don't call me ‘sir’," Snape groused. "What is it?"

Harry smiled uncertainly and nodded. He would refrain from saying 'sir', but he wasn't sure he was ready to call him 'Severus' yet. Merlin, the name even sounded awkward when he said it in his head, he couldn't imagine what it'd sound like when spoken aloud.

"Thank you."

Snape looked at him curiously. "For telling you not to call me sir?"

"For not kicking me out of your room last night."

"Next time you can just start out in here and maybe we can both sleep through the night," Snape said, attempting to keep his tone light.

"There's going to be a next time?" Harry asked, sitting up so he could see Snape's face clearly.

"If you wish," Snape said, attempting to read Harry's reaction.

He couldn't help but beam down at Snape, before flopping back down onto the bed. "You mean it? You'd let this happen again?" His voice was muffled in the pillow, but the questions were still clear.

"Obviously, or I would not have used the words, 'next time'," Snape said, rolling his eyes. He was feeling inordinately pleased with himself and couldn't help the sleepy smile he directed at Harry.

Harry grinned, rolled onto his stomach, and propped himself up on his elbows. "Here I thought it'd be harder to convince you to do this again."

Snape almost said that he didn't have anything left to lose, but he thought Harry might take that the wrong way. "Even I get tired of fighting, Harry."

Harry looked at him oddly before shrugging and grinning again. "I suppose that makes sense."

"Are you always this chipper in the morning?"

"No, I'm really not."

"Good, then I won't have to kick you out of bed in the mornings," Snape replied dryly.

Harry picked up his pillow and smacked Snape in the face before he could think better of it.

To say that Snape had been surprised by the act was an understatement. He blinked stupidly for a moment, then his eyes narrowed.

Harry's eyes widened and, were there more light in the room, Snape would have seen the color drain from Harry's face.

"You just hit me with a pillow," Snape said, reaching to grab his wand from the bedside table.

"I'm so sorry," Harry choked out, "I wasn't thinking -"

His words were cut off by two pillows hitting him on either side of the head. Harry looked at Snape, stunned.

Snape smirked, waved his wand, and one of the pillows rose and hit Harry in the face.

Harry laughed and tried to fend off the attack by the invisible assailant. He realized he had been very lucky, he doubted he'd get away with that on a normal day.

"Stop!" He laughed after getting smacked in the head again. "Stop! I give up!"

Snape let the pillow hit Harry on the back of the head before releasing the spell. "Never attack a snake in his bed, Potter," he said, his voice dangerously low.

"Why, what happens if I do?"

"You'll get the fangs," Snape said, the last word ending in a hiss.

A shiver ran through Harry and his eyes glazed. "Oh?"

Snape reached out a hand and let a finger trail down Harry's neck. "It would be a shame if you were to be bitten," he purred.

The shivering intensified and his mouth parted in a silent gasp. "Would it be?"

Snape hummed and smiled at the pleasant tightening in his groin. "Indeed."

Harry snorted and dropped back onto his stomach. He was half-hard and it wasn't like they had even done anything.

"So, no biting then?" he asked in a sad tone.

"That depends," Snape said, leaning back against his pillows.

"On?"

"On whether you like being bitten," Snape drawled.

"I wouldn't know. I’ve never been bitten before."

"Hmmm," Snape said, alternatively pleased and terrified to be Harry's first. "I think I can hear you blushing."

"You can not!" Harry cried out, mortified.

"Are you denying it?"

"Maybe."

"I'll take that to be a yes, you're blushing," Snape said smugly. "Do you plan on lying about in bed all day?"

"It's the weekend, isn't it?" Harry sat up and ran a hand through his flyaway hair. "It's not like I have a whole lot of things on my agenda. Although Hermione has been pestering me to spend time with her and Ron."

"Unlike some people in this bed, I have work to do today," Snape said, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. "I would appreciate it if you kept any details of our interactions between the two of us and not make them fodder for your friends."

Harry pulled a disgusted face. "Can you imagine their faces if I did tell them? They like me, and they're actually backing me with this, but I'd never tell them anything; even if you were someone else I'd never. Hell, they don't tell me what they get up to either and I think it's an unspoken pact that we never mention our nighttime exploits, such as they are."

Snape snorted. "Did we have exploits last night?" Snape moved to the curtains and opened them, letting filtered light into the room. On the other side of the window was the lake, light shimmering down through the water.

Harry was about to answer the question, but found he couldn't. "It's really-- It's right there. The lake's right there and we're actually beneath it?" Harry climbed off the bed and moved to stand beside Snape. He put his hands against the cool glass and gasped as a fish swam by the window.

Snape put his hands on Harry's shoulders and leaned forward to speak softly in his ear. "If I chose to, I can make all of the outside walls transparent. It's almost as good as being home… just not quite home."

Harry tipped his head to the side and the eager expression left Snape stunned. "Do it," Harry whispered, "please?"

"Just remember, we can't actually go into the water together," Snape reminded him as he held up his wand. He said incantations that Harry didn't understand, but they did the job. The walls and even the ceiling faded again to nothing. Now it was all transparent and they were completely surrounded by water.

Harry reached out to touch, but the walls were still there blocking the water. His fingers slid over slimy walls, but he didn't mind.

"How much do you miss it?" Harry murmured, turning around in a circle admiring the way the water reflected on his skin and the floor. "And please, don't lie."

"I ache for it all the time, but it is an ache I am accustomed to." Snape sighed. "It's when I'm exhausted and raw that I miss it most, miss the soothing sounds of the water. But, Harry?"

"Yes?"

"When I'm with you, the ache is tempered, and I find myself happy, despite being out of the water. That is because of you, so I thank you," Snape said softly, leaning his forehead against the glass.

Harry stared at him for a long minute, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to form a response, but he was saved by a knock on the portrait hiding the entrance to Snape's quarters.

Sighing, Snape pulled away from the glass. "Wait here please."

Pulling on a dressing robe, Snape went over to the portrait and opened the door.

Draco smirked and cocked his head to the side. "Good morning."

Snape rubbed his forehead tiredly and stepped back. "It's a bit early for a social call. Please tell me the Slytherins are staging a revolt and that's why you are here."

"Of course they haven't, even down here you would notice if that happened," Draco said, brushing past him.

Harry who until that moment had been content on just listening decided to make his presence known.

"Malfoy."

"Potter?" Draco glanced up at his godfather with an irritable expression, but even he couldn't entirely mask his curiosity. "What's he doing here?"

"I think the question is: what are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I'm visiting my godfather at a respectable hour. Judging by your attire you woke him up far earlier."

"Malfoy," Harry growled. "What are you doing here?"

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm allowed to make social calls to my family Potter, whether you like it or not."

"Draco," Snape warned tiredly.

"I'm just answering his question," Draco said, smirking.

Harry bit his lip uncertainly. Draco was right, he could just show up unannounced; he was family. Harry wasn't.

"Come here, Malfoy, and no more jabs at my clothes."

"Why?"

"Just come here and stop asking bleeding stupid questions!"

Draco shrugged. "Alright, what?"

Harry pushed open the door to Snape's bedroom and flooded the sitting room with light. He folded his arms across his chest and jerked his head in a clear indication for the blond to go and look.

"Potter, if this is stupid-"

"Move, Malfoy, before Snape kills me."

"Kills you, you say?"

"Malfoy," Harry whined, looking ready to stomp his foot. Draco held up his hands in mock defeat and entered Snape's bedroom. He froze in the doorway, his blue eyes widening in surprise. In bewilderment he glanced over his shoulder at his godfather, but got no more response than an arched brow. Draco stepped forward and heard Harry and Severus follow after him. In a gesture eerily similar to Harry's earlier one, he reached out and touched the see-through wall. He pulled his hand back, rubbing the moisture between his fingers.

"Uncle Severus, may I speak to you alone?" he asked softly.

Harry set his hand on Snape's elbow, stood on tiptoes and whispered something into his ear. Draco watched idly as Snape nodded and muttered something, before Harry went to the dresser, scooped up his clothing and then exited the bedroom, shutting the door with a click.

"Well?"

"You've shown him," he stated, wiping his hand on his pants.

"Yes, I have. Was there something else?" Snape asked, waving his wand to reinstate walls to block out the sight of the water.

"And he spent the night."

Snape looked around his bedroom and the unmade bed and shrugged. "Yes. Would you like some tea?"

"Uncle Severus," Draco groaned. _I say Potter stays the night and what does he do? Offers tea. Does it look like I want tea!_ "Does he know what this means?"

"I doubt it," Snape said, walking toward the kitchen.

"Are you going to tell him?" Draco asked, grabbing his arm.

Snape sighed and shrugged Draco off. "I don't know."

"Uncle Severus."

"What exactly would you have me tell him?" Snape hissed, glancing toward the bathroom door, which was still closed.

Draco shook his head in annoyance. "The truth. You're stuck with him whether we like it or not, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I don't want you to lose him because of your own priggish attitude!"

"I won't force him to stay, Draco," Snape hissed through clenched teeth. "I'll do whatever I can to keep him, but I won't force him."

"Telling him the truth won't be forcing him!" Draco snapped. They stood nose to nose glaring at each other, but broke off when they heard the door open. Draco crossed the room and sat on the bed in a sulk.

"Telling who the truth?" Harry asked, glancing at Draco before looking up at Snape. He toweled his hair dry and then draped the towel over his neck.

"Nothing," Snape said, giving a warning look at Draco.

Harry grinned, unsure of what had happened while he was out of the room. "All right. Talk about anything fun?"

"You of course," Draco said, sneering. "We couldn't possibly have anything else to talk about."

Harry gripped the edge of the dark blue towel and scowled. "Cause I'm just that interesting."

"Draco, that's enough. You will not bait him, is that understood?" Snape said, moving to stand behind Harry.

Draco glared at Harry before giving his godfather a pointed stare and stood. "I can see I'm no longer wanted. I'll leave now."

"Draco, don't do this," Snape said, fist clenching at his side. "You know it...just, don't."

"I'm leaving, professor," Draco sneered, and then swept by them both and exited the bedroom.

Harry winced as the portrait slammed shut behind the blond. He turned around to see Snape standing behind him, both fists clenched and head bowed. "What was that all about?"

"He's angry with me. He'll get over it."

"Are you sure it was okay to let him leave like that?" Harry asked worriedly.

"I've known him all his life, he's just being dramatic," Snape said, though he wasn't sure it was okay. "I'll speak with him when he's calmed down."

"If you say so." Harry shook his head sending stray droplets flying before flopping down on the bed.

"Just because I'm a water creature does not mean you’re allowed to drip all over my bedding," Snape groused.

Harry laughed and Snape was relieved to hear it.

"Git."

"I need breakfast, then I have work to do," Snape said, heading toward the kitchen.

Harry followed Snape out of the bedroom and leaned against the door frame as he watched the man head over to what could only be described as a kitchenette.

"Thank you," he said, once Snape had stopped puttering about and had finally put the kettle on the stovetop.

"For?" Snape pulled out a loaf of bread and put two slices into the toaster.

Harry shrugged with a shy smile. "Letting me stay. You really didn't have to."

"No, but I wanted to," Snape said, shrugging as if it wasn't a big deal.

"You did?"

"You sound surprised," Snape said, leaning against the counter and folding his arms across his chest.

"I'm not," Harry said, moving to sit down at the table. "Not really."

"What are your plans today?"

"I'll probably do what I said earlier and spend time with Ron and Hermione, if I can pull Hermione out from behind her textbooks."

Snape nodded, taking the slices of toast from the toaster. He put them on a plate and set them before Harry. "I've got to get to the lab. Can you find your way out?"

Harry picked up a piece of the toast and nibbled at the corner and nodded. "I think so, yeah."

"I'll see you tonight then," Snape said, pushing away from the counter and pouring himself a cup of tea. He kissed Harry on the top of his head as he passed, then shut the door of the bathroom.

Harry grinned down at his toast, before running a hand through his damp hair. As Harry bit into his toast he surreptitiously observed Snape entering the bathroom. Snape wanted to see him again tonight. The idea made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

He wondered what Hermione would say about this; he knew what Ron would say, but he was really curious about Hermione's reaction. Finishing his toast, he brought the plate over to the sink and set it down with a clink. Glancing at the bathroom door as he passed, he entered the bedroom and found his pajamas were already gone. Pleased with this, he hunted around for a quill and bit of parchment and scratched out a quick note. He set it on the bed and then with a fond look at the bathroom, he left Snape's quarters.

##    
_  
**Chapter Nineteen**   
_   


They settled into a kind of routine that week. After dinner in the Great Hall, Harry would go down to the dungeons. They would play music or Harry would study while Snape graded papers. On Thursday, Snape had to supervise a detention, and Harry spent the evening with Ron and Hermione, much to their delight.

When Friday night finally rolled around, Harry threw some clothes and various sundries into his bag and headed to the dungeon. Snape wouldn't let him stay the night during the week, but he had agreed to let Harry spend however much time he wanted to with him at weekends. Harry was practically bouncing with excitement when he knocked on the portrait to Snape's quarters. It swung open revealing Snape sitting on his chair reading.

"Hey," Harry said, stepping inside. He jumped when the portrait swung shut behind him.

"Good evening," Snape said, marking his place with his finger. "I didn't expect you so early. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything is fine." Harry tossed his bag onto the floor by the sofa and jumped onto it. "Why?"

Snape shrugged. "The way you were carrying on with the Weasley chit at dinner, I thought you might have other plans," he said, his eyes returning to his book.

"What? Ginny?" Harry gazed at Snape, confusion written clearly across his face.

"Are there any other female Weasleys at Hogwarts?" Snape asked coolly.

"No."

"I see," Snape said, not looking up from his book.

"Well I haven't," Harry snapped, folding his arms across his chest in irritation.

Snape ignored him, scowling at the pages of his book.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Snape snapped his book closed and shot to his feet, pacing in a tight circle. "She was touching you," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Touching me?" Harry repeated warily. "Hermione kisses my cheek after every meal practically. You never say anything about that."

"She's obviously besotted with your best friend! It's not the same thing!"

"How isn't it? Ginny's my friend too!"

"She used to look at you like the cat does the cream," Snape said disdainfully.

Harry scowled. "Do you have a point?"

"The point is, I will not share my mate with bloody humans who can't keep their hands to themselves!"

Harry jerked backwards and winced. His heart skipped twice before picking up speed until he thought he'd be sick from it. "Your mate?" he croaked.

Snape stalked over to Harry, towering over him. "How did you think this would end, Potter? Apparently you failed to read the fine print once again."

Snape turned, his robes billowing against Harry's shins as he stormed off to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Flicking his wand, the walls faded and he was surrounded by shimmering water. He pressed his forehead against the glass, his hand pressed longingly toward the water. The need to claim and to mark Harry as his own, to ensure he was off limits to others was almost overwhelming.

He knew Ginny Weasley was nothing to the boy, but watching her flirt and smile had set his teeth on edge. It hadn't only been Harry, she kept looking at that annoying Hufflepuff as well, but it still infuriated him.

And now Potter was no doubt running back to his tower, getting as far away from him as possible.

Harry sank into the couch cushion, eyes wide in shock. He knew that he was Snape's… but he didn't expect him to ever admit it out loud, and not in such an irritated manner. There was something he was missing, again, when was there not? He stood, cautiously neared the shut door, and then knocked in three swift raps.

"Pr-Severus-" _Merlin, that still felt awkward to say._ He had tried it once before and it had earned a favorable reaction. "Severus, please."

Snape lifted his head at the sound of the knocks. He pointed his wand at the door and opened it.

Harry stopped just inside the doorway, locating Snape almost immediately. The light wasn't as bright as it was that morning a week ago, but still the reflection of the water on the floor gave the impression of being underwater.

He moved forward in an aborted gesture. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it would bother you that much. Are you all right?"

Snape shook his head tiredly, unsure of what to say. He had humiliated himself enough for one night, and didn't trust himself to speak.

Harry moved to stand beside him and he looked out into the depths of the water, watching a school of fish go by at a distance. He thought for a moment he had spotted a tentacle, but brushed it off as his imagination.

"Can anything see in?"

"No," Snape said, looking into the water, wishing he were on the other side of the glass.

"Then why bring the walls back into existence?"

"Because sometimes I want it too badly," Snape replied softly.

"What would happen if you go by yourself, without me?"

Snape turned his head to look at Harry. "Then I would be without you."

"Would that be such a problem?"

Snape pressed his forehead against the glass, watching the subdued lights flashing in the water. "It would be infinitely worse.”

Harry fidgeted with the hem of his shirt for an indecisive minute, before shifting in between the wall and Snape, forcing the man's forehead off the glass.

"What are you doing?" Snape muttered, as Harry laced his hands behind his neck. Harry's eyes flitted up to meet his and he inhaled briefly.

"Shutting your mind up," came the answer and then Harry's mouth was covering his.

Snape moaned into Harry's mouth, his hands sliding upward, his fingers curling into Harry's hair, gripping it tightly, deepening the kiss.

Harry shoved them away from the wall, one hand slipping up the back of Snape's shirt as they went.

Snape's knees hit the back of the bed and he fell back, carrying Harry with him, then rolling until Harry was underneath him. He kissed down his neck, nipping and sucking before moving back to his mouth, devouring him.

Harry hissed, his fingers gripping bare skin and Snape's shirt collar, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't get enough.

"Take off your shirt," Harry gasped, "please."

Snape fumbled with the top buttons of his shirt, getting enough undone that he could pull it over his head. He didn't resume kissing Harry until he too was devoid of t-shirt. He placed open-mouthed kisses across Harry's chest, sucking and licking the pale flesh, wanting to taste every inch of him.

Harry shuddered and arched under his mouth, making little needy sounds when Snape’s fingers brushed against one of his nipples.

Snape growled in response to Harry's whines, his hands working at the clasp of Harry jeans. He'd never performed oral sex on anyone, and he hoped to god he didn't completely screw it up, but if he didn't taste Harry soon, he was certain he'd go mad.

Harry brushed Snape's hands away and undid the belt buckle and button. He struggled out of his jeans, accidentally kneeing Snape in the stomach.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, kicking his pants off on to the ground.

"Doesn't matter," Snape rasped, pressing Harry back against the bed, taking his cock in his hand. He kissed across Harry's stomach, kissing lower, making him squirm. Then Snape licked the head of his cock, and Harry almost shot off the bed, his knee barely missing Snape's chin.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut in humiliation. "So-"

Snape growled, sending hot breath ghosting over Harry's fading erection. "Don't say it."

Harry jolted and nodded frantically. Anything to get Snape's mouth back on his prick. He tried to keep his hips still as Snape kissed up and down his aching shaft, teasing him, and then he was engulfed in warmth.

He cried out, hips jerking forward beyond his control and just as suddenly as the warm mouth had covered his cock, it vanished and he could hear Snape hacking at the foot of his bed. Merlin, this was a disaster, he thought, sitting up.

"Are you all right?" he asked, voice low. He moved, mindful of the cold that was raising gooseflesh along his arms, to kneel beside Snape.

Snape coughed again and turned his watering eyes onto Harry. "I'm fine."

"I choked you," Harry muttered, his face turning a bright red. His erection wilted at the sight.

"I'm fine," Snape repeated, pushing Harry backwards with one hand. Harry let himself be pushed down and he squirmed when long fingers began to stroke him again.

Harry began to firm back up, and Snape helped it along with smooth strokes up and down the shaft with his tongue. Harry relaxed against the bed, all his tension in his hips to keep them from jerking up again like that.

Snape was psyching himself up to put it in his mouth again. He swirled his tongue around the tip, and let Harry's cock slide into his mouth.

Harry gasped and flinched backwards.

"What?" Snape asked, wide eyed.

"Teeth," Harry hissed.

 _Damn it!_ Snape though aggressively as he pulled back. _The book had warned him about the teeth! Okay, they'd come back to this._

Snape covered Harry's body with his own, licking and teasing the tender flesh of his neck. Reaching between them, he pressed their pricks together, and Harry hissed again, but this time at the sensation of thrusting back and forth along Snape's prick.

"Gods, that's brilliant," Harry moaned, watching Snape's face; Snape had his eyes focused on their pricks sliding back and forth. Harry could feel the tension coiling in his groin too soon, and he gave a hoarse call to stop.

Snape's head snapped up and his hands stilled. Then a slow smile spread across his face and he began to move his hands and hips again, watching Harry's face. "I want to watch you come," he told Harry, increasing the pressure of his grip.

Harry groaned and thrust into Snape's hand helplessly. He turned his head and buried his face in the pillow to block a wailing moan as his orgasm tore through him.

"Harry, look at me!" Snape ordered.

Harry turned his head as his hips rolled forward, eyes meeting Snape's, and his come splattering against his and Snape's torsos.

Snape didn't want to come, not like this, but he couldn't stop from thrusting into his hand and climaxing right after Harry, moaning loudly. He collapsed against Harry, ignoring the sticky mess until his heartbeat evened out.

When he finally pulled back, he looked from Harry to the mixture of semen between drying between them. "Care to join me in the shower?" Snape asked, suddenly unsure of himself, afraid that he'd screwed things up because it had happened so fast. But he wasn't done, not by a long shot.

Harry grunted. He didn't relish the idea of being covered in his own spunk for whatever else they were going to do… he really couldn't imagine what that might be. "Yeah, a shower would be nice."

Snape smiled and rolled off of Harry. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and used it to wipe the majority of semen off of Harry, then used it on himself. His smile was nervous when he realized Harry was watching him from the bed.

Harry flushed and quickly looked away, embarrassed, but not sure why. He got off the bed and moved to stand beside Snape.

"Shower then?"

"Shower," Snape agreed, interlacing his fingers with Harry's and leading him to the bathroom.

Harry waited off to the side as Snape turned on the shower, testing it to make sure it was at the right temperature. The blush he had developed early seemed to be a permanent fixture and he found himself trying to discreetly cover himself up with his hand every time Snape turned to look him over. Merlin, he was acting worse than a schoolgirl! This had to stop. So the moment Snape stepped into the shower and beckoned for Harry to join him, he strutted across the cool tiles and straight into the man's arms. He'd be damned if he would start acting like a little girl now.

Snape saw the determined look in Harry's eyes as he realized that he was just as nervous as Harry was. This just wouldn't do.

He pulled Harry under the spray and watched as the water cascaded over his skin. He couldn't keep from following a trail of it down Harry's neck with his tongue.

Harry gripped Snape's arms and his head fell to the side with a soft groan of approval. "I thought we were showering," he murmured.

"We are," Snape murmured, kissing down Harry's chest and flicking his tongue to catch a drop of water as it fell from his right nipple.

"Interesting sort of showering."

Snape pulled back and looked at Harry. "It's alright?"

Harry grinned and nodded. "Just new."

Snape smiled and let his fingers trail up Harry's back, then down his shoulders and across his chest. "This bit is new to me as well," he admitted, watching the way Harry's nipple's hardened at his touch.

The soft hitch in Harry's throat made him smile.

"It is?"

"Hmm?"

"New, to you too?"

Snape didn't meet Harry's eyes when he answered. "I've never showered with anyone," he said, mesmerized by the play of water against Harry's skin, "not like this." He licked the little pool of water at Harry's clavicle. "As for the rest...my experience is limited at best."

"Your...limited experience?" Harry asked, hardening under the steady stream of hot water.

"Mmm," Snape said, circling behind Harry. He grabbed the soap and lathered up his hands before wrapping them around Harry's waist and sliding his hands up Harry's chest. "Intercourse," he said, nibbling Harry's neck.

"You can't tell me you've ne-ever done this before."

"I have," Snape agreed. "But it was...I wish this to be better." Snape ran his soapy palms in circles over Harry's nipples. "I read another book on the subject," he admitted, smiling against Harry's neck, shocked that he'd just admitted it out loud.

"Severus S-oh-Snape read a book, will wonders never cease?"

Snape pinched Harry's nipples rather hard. "Behave Potter, or you'll never see what it is that I learned," he purred.

"Yes, sir," Harry squeaked, tipping his head back with a mock glare.

Snape got more soap, and took his time cleaning every inch of Harry, save his cock, balls and tight little ass. Those, he saved for last.

A soft moan emitted from Harry's throat as he arched backwards silently begging for more, but unable to voice it. Snape moved around to face Harry, putting the soap in his hands to do with as he wished. Snape slid his soapy hands down Harry's backside, spreading his cheeks and letting the side of his hand move back and forth over his puckered hole.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked in a wavering tone, the soap slipping from his fingers to the shower floor.

Snape stopped, frowning, he slid the hand up Harry's back. "Does that bother you?"

Harry flushed and rested his forehead against Snape's shoulder. "Not if it's not supposed to. I just... didn't know you were going to touch there."

Snape stepped back and lifted Harry's face from his shoulder. "Harry, you do know how men have sex, do you not?"

"Uh...would you hate me if I said no?" The blush deepened and Harry wondered if it was possible for his brain to explode from embarrassment.

Snape frowned and brushed back the hair that was dripping in Harry's eyes. "I couldn't hate you, even if I tried, not now, not ever. You will be bound to me." Snape made a decision. "Hmm… let's resume this on the bed. Alright?"

Harry bent over and retrieved the soap, handing it back to Snape in silent acknowledgment. He was such a child, what was wrong with him? How could Snape want to touch him? He was as green as… well, a first year he reckoned, and five times worse off because of it. It became clear to him that he had been running blindly towards this moment for months now and he had no idea what the finish line looked like, or how to find the starting line again if he needed to.

And still, Snape wanted him.

Snape took his time finishing up, using it as a way to give himself time to think about what to say. When he turned off the water, he still had no idea where to begin. When they stepped out of the shower, Harry began drying himself off. Snape took the towel from him and dried Harry for him, kissing each spot as it became dry.

A murmur of appreciation echoed in the small bathroom and Snape smirked up into Harry's hazed-over eyes. He kissed the boy's inner thighs, gently sucking at them, before moving downward, bringing the soft towel with him.

Harry felt his knees lock when Snape's tongue darted out, licking the back of them. He fell back against the wall unable to hold his own weight.

"So responsive," Snape whispered in appreciation. "Come along before you end up on my floor again," Snape said, taking Harry's hand, kissing the palm, and leading him to the bed.

Harry stumbled back into the bedroom in a daze after Snape, his brain having ceased functioning around the time Snape had reached his stomach in the bathroom. He was practically vibrating and yet Snape seemed completely at ease, amused even with him. He had to fix that somehow.

The moment they reached the bed, Harry pushed Snape backwards and straddled his hips.

"Professor," he groaned, as their cocks rubbed together. "You'll have to teach me what to do. After all, you did read the b- oh, Merlin! -book."

Snape's eyes rolled into the back of his head. Who knew assertive Harry would be such a turn-on. But it was, and Snape was hard as a rock in an instant. He arched up against Harry, opening his eyes. He ran his hands up and down Harry's thighs. "Merlin, I don't know that I'll ever get enough of you. Of touching you."

"You mean it?" Harry moaned. He surged forward and almost pressed Snape back so far, that he would have toppled off the man's lap, but he hadn't, and Snape's fingers seemed to be everywhere.

"Harry, I have to penetrate you to seal the binding," Snape said, and he felt Harry tense.

"Yeah, okay, I knew that," he mumbled, his hips still moving despite his words.

"I can't promise it will be pain-free, the first few times seldom are. But I can promise to give you pleasure that will make up for the pain," Snape said, kissing Harry's hand.

"And you have to touch me, you know, there?" he asked, slowing down his thrusts as he took in what Snape was telling him.

Snape smiled gently and nodded. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at how sensitive that area is. Will you let me show you? I won't insert anything, you have my word."

"Then how will you?"

"Do you trust me?" Snape asked.

"Yes."

"Lie down on your stomach," Snape said, squeezing Harry's thighs and smiling.

Harry stared at him for a moment before climbing off Snape's lap and lying down on the bed. He looked over his shoulder to see Snape now standing behind him with a pleased expression. A shiver ran down Harry's spine and he quickly glanced away.

Snape summoned something, but Harry's face was buried in the pillow and he didn't dare look. He felt Snape get on the bed, and soon he was straddling Harry, who tensed up fearfully.

Snape smiled and ran a hand down Harry's back, caressing him softly. He uncapped the bottle and poured the oil into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it before placing his hands on Harry's back. As he began to massage the tense muscles, he began to hum a gentle tune.

"Shit," Harry cursed, squirming against the bed covers. He gasped softly and stilled as Snape's hands brushed over the top of his bottom.

Snape closed his eyes, concentrating on nothing but his hands and the tune. His thumbs traced small circles on Harry's lower back, then moved higher up the back before sliding back down.

"Do something," Harry whined, rubbing against the bed. "Please, anything."

Snape shifted so he was kneeling next to Harry. He kissed down his back as his hand slipped between Harry's butt cheeks, the side of his hand moving across his puckered hole.

Harry tensed and then relaxed. Snape didn't attempt any sort of penetration, just letting his hand caress the sensitive flesh, changing the tune he was humming slightly.

A jolt of pleasure washed over Harry and he pushed back into the touch hesitantly. He didn't know what he wanted, but Harry was certain he didn't want Snape to stop, humming or touching.

Snape was driving himself mad, the tune affecting him just as much as Harry, but he wouldn't rush things. Harry's first time was not going to be like his.

"Touch me," Harry groaned, arching back when the finger ran over his entrance again. "There. I-please."

"What do you want, Harry?"

What did he want? "You, in there, please." He was beyond begging and he could feel heat pouring off Snape in waves and if the man didn't do something soon he was going to embarrass himself.

Snape's finger stilled its slow pattern and Harry glanced over his shoulder with an aggravated expression.

"You're certain?"

"Bloody hell, yes, just- please."

Snape nodded and pushed his finger slowly past that tight little ring of flesh, murmuring soothing words, when Harry cried out at the intrusion.

Snape bent over, kissing Harry's back, humming against his flesh, as he pulled his oiled finger back and slowly pushed it back in.

By the time he had worked up to three fingers, Harry was whimpering, urging Snape to hurry. Snape removed his fingers. "On your knees, it will be easier," Snape told him as he poured more oil into his hand. He put it on his cock, fighting the urge to squeeze and thrust into his own palm.

Harry moved, reluctantly stopping his hips' frantic movements against the sheets.

Once Harry was situated, Snape got on his knees behind Harry. He placed a comforting hand on Harry's back as he ran his hard prick up and down Harry's crack teasingly.

"Just put it in me," Harry grunted as he pressed backwards.

"Greedy, bossy, bottom," Snape said approvingly. "Alright, remember to relax," Snape whispered. He pressed his cock against Harry's hole, and began to hum as he slowly worked it inside, giving Harry time to adjust to its presence.

Harry tensed, whimpering. Music filled his ears as Snape slid into him, but it still hurt.

Snape closed his eyes, trying to get a hold on his body, fighting the urge to take Harry hard and fast. He leaned over Harry's back, kissing him between the shoulder blades. He reached around and wrapped long fingers around Harry's flagging erection, stroking it until he was hard once again.

Soon, Harry was moving experimentally. "Is it alright?" Snape asked.

"It still stings a little, but it's not bad. Just, leave your hand there," Harry replied, pressing forward into Snape's hand.

Snape smiled against Harry's back, and moved his own hips back, gasping as Harry's muscles clenched around his cock. Harry moaned as Snape pressed forward once more, slowly sliding in and out of Harry, attempting to find the right angle.

"Fuck," Harry gasped. "Do that again," he begged, pressing back against Snape.

Snape moved again, faster now, his instincts taking over. His hand, pulling and gripping Harry's cock. His intention was for Harry to climax first, but Snape was too close, and growling deep in his chest he thrust hard and fast, coming harder than he imagined possible. Harry was whimpering beneath him, continuing to thrust into Snape's hand.

Resting his head on Harry's back, Snape hummed, stroking Harry's cock faster until he felt the warm seed spurting across his hand, a low keening sound came from Harry and his body shuddered.

The room was suffused in a warm, blue light, and Harry wasn't sure if it was coming from the water beyond the glass walls or from Snape himself. But he could feel it, enveloping him, sinking into his very soul.

The two collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. Snape rolled off of Harry, looking at him curiously.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked, kissing Harry's sweaty temple.

"Brilliant," Harry replied. "Sore, but brilliant," Harry said, opening his eyes and smiling at Snape. "What was that light?"

"It was marking you, recognizing you as my mate," Snape said, watching Harry's reaction carefully.

"Felt good," Harry said, drowsily.

Snape's body relaxed, and he kissed Harry gently. "Stay," he ordered, going to the bathroom and returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned Harry first, then himself, and then tossed the cloth towards the bathroom. He did a cleaning spell on the sheets, then climbed back into bed, spooning against Harry.

"Are you okay?" Harry said, rolling over to face Snape. "I mean, was it good?" he asked awkwardly.

"It was brilliant," Snape answered, causing Harry to smile.

"Good," Harry replied, burying his face in Snape's neck and snuggling closer. Smiling, Snape held him close, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

 ** _Chapter Twenty_**  
Hermione smiled and sat beside Harry on the sofa. He grinned at her and pecked her cheek gently.

"Hey, you," she said nudging him.

Harry laughed. "Hey yourself."

"You're looking extremely pleased," Hermione said, studying him.

"Well, I'm feeling extremely pleased."

"I can tell. Did you have a good night with Snape?" Hermione asked.

Harry blushed and hung his head, trying to hide his grin. "It was brilliant actually."

"Well, then share!" Hermione said excitedly.

Harry glanced around, but nobody seemed to be paying them any attention. "We kind of...did it," he whispered, feeling both smug and embarrassed.

Hermione let out a high-pitched squeal and grabbed his hands. "You didn't! Harry, that's just- was it good?"

"Shhh!" he cried and would have put a hand over her mouth if she didn't have such a tight grip on them. In the back of his mind he wondered why his nighttime expedition merited breaking their unspoken code of 'don’t ask, don’t tell'. "And yes, it was good. It was great. I think. It's not like I have anything to compare it to."

"What was great?" Ron asked, sitting on the arm of the couch.

"Sex, Ron."

Ron shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. "Honestly mate, as long as you're happy, but please don't share the details with her, or I'll end up hearing them as well."

Hermione shoved Ron off the couch. "Go away then!"

Harry buried his face in hands, feeling the flush all the way up to his ears.

"Oi!" Ron cried, righting himself before he hit the floor.

"Can you three knock it off, we're trying to study!"

"Go to the library!" Ron cried, throwing a pillow at the fourth year.

The younger boy blocked the pillow and scowled. "This is our common room too!"

"Common being the operative word, now mind your own business!"

Hermione ignored Ron, too happy for Harry to get onto him about being mean to the younger kids. "So are you alright? I mean, are you sore?" she asked, whispering conspiratorially.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron yelped at the same time.

"It's a valid question!" Hermione said, scowling at the two of them. "There can often be tearing of the tissue."

Ron groaned. "Why do you know so much about this?"

"Because I read, Ronald," Hermione said dismissively. "Did he prepare you first?" she asked clinically.

"Hermione!" they both shouted with wide-eyed horror.

"Did he?" she pressed.

"Yes," Harry said through clenched teeth. "It was fine, can was stop talking about my...can we stop talking about that now?"

Hermione smirked and folded her hands on her lap primly. "Of course. But it's not every day my best friend loses his virginity."

Ron groaned. "Merlin, Hermione, do you have to say it like that? Harry's a guy. He got laid. He didn't 'lose his virginity'," he said in a high, singsong voice.

"I'm not crude, like some."

"Then plug your ears," Ron warned. "Was it alright? I mean, you got off and stuff right? That's all I care about."

Harry shot him a dirty look. "I thought we weren't talking about this any more." After a pause, he grinned half-heartedly. "But yeah, I did."

"See Hermione, it was good. Now, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but can we study for NEWTs? I'm screwed." Ron looked sheepishly at Hermione, then winked at Harry behind her back.

"Thanks," Harry mouthed.

Studying could only last so long, but for Harry it seemed to drag on forever. The only upside was that Hermione actually seemed impressed by how much he knew and she let him off lightly.

"Hermione," Ron whined.

"You wanted to study, Ron."

"But not all afternoon!"

Harry shut the book he had been reading and cast it aside. "It's almost dinner."

Hermione pursed her lips and followed Harry's example. "Fine, but don't think you're getting out of studying later, Ron. The NEWTs are next week!"

Ron looked at Harry pleadingly. "Ah, Hermione, I could really use Ron's help. Can you spare him for a bit after we eat?"

"Fine," she said, getting off the couch. "But only for an hour or so. You really do need to study, Ron."

"Right, will do," Ron said, shoving Harry toward the portrait door. Once they were outside, Ron let out a huge sigh. "Thanks mate."

"I owed you," Harry said, slugging him on the shoulder.

"You all right, then? Happy, or whatever?" Ron asked awkwardly.

"Yeah I'm happy, or whatever. I'm also starving, so let's go!"

Ron grinned, slung an arm over Harry's shoulder and mock-wrestled their way to the Great Hall.  
Ginny didn't know what to think anymore. Harry used to pay attention to her, and now all he paid attention to was his violin. It hurt, more than she wanted to admit. Why would an instrument have more hold over him than her? She was pretty enough, wasn't she?

She gazed at her reflection in her pumpkin juice for a moment before taking a sip of it. It was early still, however she would wait. The dinner rush didn't start until five thirty and at least here she managed to grab some of Harry's attention.

It wasn't like she really liked Harry that way any more either. No, she just found it unfair that Draco Malfoy got more of Harry's attention nowadays than she did. Wasn't she still his friend? Didn't she matter any more? Maybe -maybe Harry just didn't like her now. The thought hung heavily in her mind and she couldn't shake it.

Hearing familiar laughter, she looked towards the entrance and smiled. Ginny waved Harry and Ron over to where she was and they sat down on either side of her, Ron ruffling her hair, and Harry grinning hugely. He shifted on the bench for a few moments before going still.

"Hey," she said in greeting, leaning over and kissing Harry's cheek.

Harry laughed and returned the gesture.

Snape saw red, though the only outward expression of his anger was the tightening of his body. He reminded himself that the chit meant nothing to Potter, that she was like a little sister. _So why was she hanging all over him?_ He gripped the goblet of pumpkin juice in front of him, his knuckles turning white when Harry didn’t push Ginny away.

The sound of glass breaking at the high table drew the students attention. Harry looked up to see the dark, angry eyes of Severus Snape, no, his mate, burning a hole into him.

He didn't see Ginny lean over to whisper something in his ear. Harry watched in horror as Snape stormed down from the head table, quickly followed by McGonagall, who was trying to grab his robes and stop him. Before Ginny even had a clue this was about her, Snape was pulling her up by the back of her robes. "Unhand my mate," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Ginny shrieked and the few occupants of the Great Hall went silent. Harry wanted the seat to swallow him whole. Snape snarled again, a low animalistic sound that set the hair on Harry's arms on end.

"Severus, unhand Miss Weasley at once!"

Harry grabbed a fistful of Snape's robes just out of sight of half the hall and pulled. "Let her go, please."

Snape released her and stepped back, his anger turning to horrified embarrassment. "I -," he swallowed thickly. "Miss Weasley, I apologize," he said, looking at Harry. "Excuse me, I must see the Headmaster."

Turning on his heel, he fled the Great Hall.

Harry met McGonagall's concerned stare and he shook his head as he stood up. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Ginny's expression went from horror to confusion. "What? Wait! Where are you going?"

Harry didn't stop to answer as he chased after Snape, unable to shake his worry and fear.

He caught up to the man in the corridor leading to Dumbledore's office. He grabbed him the sleeve of his robes. "Snape! Severus! Wait."

Snape stopped, looking at Harry with a haunted expression.

Harry looked around the corridor with wide eyes as he attempted to regain his breath. It stung that Snape appeared ready to brush him aside again. Frustration ran through him like an out-of-control hippogriff and he gripped his nails into Snape's wrist.

"What was that all about?"

"I wanted to tear her apart," Snape said through clenched teeth. "She kept touching you and I wanted to kill her. I didn't know it would be like this," Snape said, staring at a point over Harry's shoulder. "I didn't know I would feel so much. I should have waited to claim you.”

Harry released a shaky breath and his grip loosened. "If someone wasn't there to stop you, would you have killed her?"

Snape shook his head. "I don't think so. I just wanted her to stop touching what was mine," he said, unable to control the growl that accompanied the words. "But I never should have laid hands on her. I wanted to hurt her, and had I not been stopped I don't know if I would have stopped myself. I have to speak with the Headmaster. I've got to leave."

"You're going to leave?" Harry whispered, feeling his throat clench.

"Would you rather I stay and throttle anyone who gets near you?" Snape shouted. "Do you even realize what just happened? I practically announced to the whole school that you are mine!"

Harry winced and stepped backwards, uncertain what to do now. "Well, running away isn't going to fix the problem," he snapped.

"How can they let me stay?" Snape asked, deflated. "I physically assaulted a student."

"But-"

Snape held his gaze for a moment and Harry had to break the stare first.

"But, what? What would you have me do, Harry?" The question was soft and pleading and Harry hung his head.

"I don't want you to leave."

Snape reached out and pulled Harry to him, inhaling his scent and settling his nerves. "Would you like to come with me to speak with the Headmaster? You have the right to know what is to happen to me."

"I'd like that."

Snape nodded, releasing Harry long enough to clasp his hand, and together they went to face the Headmaster.

~*~

  
Hermione had seen Harry fly out of the Great Hall like Voldemort himself was chasing him. She didn't even get a chance to find out where he was rushing off to, but from the sheer panic in his eyes, she guessed it couldn't be good.

Entering the Great Hall, she found herself amidst chaos. Hermione quickly made her way down the rows of tables and slipped onto the bench next to Ron.

"What happened?" she asked, looking between Ron's pale face and Ginny's rapidly purpling one.

Ron shook his head in bewilderment. "One second we were just sitting here, and the next Snape was breathing down our necks. He," Ron stopped and ran a hand down his face. "He lifted Ginny off her seat like she weighed nothing and then, Merlin, Hermione, I don't know what to make of this, but he practically spat in her face and told her to 'unhand his mate'. Hermione, I've seen Snape before, but he looked ready to kill anyone who so much as breathed in Harry's direction."

"What I'd like to know," Ginny cut in, "is why Snape called Harry his 'mate' in the first place."

Hermione took Ginny by the arm, leading her out of the Great Hall. "Because, for all intents and purposes he is! They entered into a magical contract," Hermione whispered. "Did he hurt you?" she asked, looking Ginny over carefully.

Ginny nodded and pulled down the collar of her shirt to show where it had choked her. She frowned trying to make sense of what Hermione said, but magical contracts don't bind people in that way, at least, not normal magical contracts. "What exactly did Harry do again?"

Ron came up behind them. "Remember the bedtime story mum used to tell, the one about the Nix?"

Ginny glanced at her brother and shrugged. "You mean the water creature that the princess fell in love with and he took her back to his home underwater?"

"That's the one."

"What about it? It's just a fairy tale." Hermione sighed and Ginny felt something heavy settle in her stomach. "It is just a fairy tale, right?"

Ron settled a hand on her shoulder and spun her around so she was facing him. "Ginny, didn't you ever find it odd the way that mum ended those stories? Didn't you ever wonder why the princess was never seen again?"

"No, why? Why are we talking about this anyway?"

"Ginny, Snape is a Nix."

Ginny snorted and burst out laughing. "You're joking, right?"

Ron looked at her sadly and Ginny couldn't stop laughing. "It's a joke! Great ruse, you two; you really had me going for a second there. I mean, first Snape's a Nix, next you're going to tell me Harry's the princess that fell in love with him."

"Ginevra," Ron said harshly, shaking her. "Stop it."

Ginny's laughter stopped abruptly as she gazed at her brother in confusion. She could count on her hand the number of times her older brother had used her full name – on one hand.

"You aren't serious, are you?" She glanced over at Hermione and saw the same sympathetic expression on her face. "You two really believe Snape is a Nix?"

"No, we know he is," Hermione murmured, reaching out and brushing a lock of red hair off the younger girl's freckled face.

Ginny pulled back from the two seventh years with an incredulous look. "And who told you this? Snape himself?"

"Professor Snape," Hermione corrected with a gentle tone, "and no, Headmaster Dumbledore did."

Ginny felt her stomach drop. They weren't joking. "So what, you're telling me Snape is a Nix and he's going to disappear with Harry into a lake?"

"Not necessarily," Hermione corrected.

Ginny shook her head. "This is absurd. Harry's not even gay!" Her eyes widened. "Is he?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked at Ron helplessly. "I don't think so, at least, he's never mentioned it to me."

"Me neither," Ron murmured.

"Then he can't be Snape's mate. They have to have sex, or it won't work," Ginny said, feeling a sense of relief. At least until Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing glances.

"They did?" Ginny asked, covering her mouth with her hand. "And Dumbledore knows? How could he let this happen?"

"He did try to prevent it from getting this far, but-"

"There's always a but," Ginny groaned.

"-But," Hermione continued, "There were even things he couldn't stop, not without hurting or even killing Snape."

"Snape said he was going to speak to Dumbledore. What do you think that means?" Ginny asked. "If he gets sacked, what happens to Harry?"

Ron glanced at Hermione before shaking his head. "I don't even want to think about it."

~*~

Dumbledore sat at his desk, his fingers steepled under his chin as he stared at the two men. He was about to speak, when a knocking at the door interrupted him. Minerva McGonagall stepped inside without waiting for invitation. She looked at Harry and Snape and shook her head, her eyes full of worry.

"Is Miss Weasley alright, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"I believe so, though Miss Granger and her brother whisked her away before we could talk. Headmaster, what is to be done?" she asked, glancing at Harry and Snape once again.

"I have already tendered my resignation," Snape told her, his voice void of emotion.

"I'm sure that is unnecessary, Severus."

"That's what I told him," Harry grumbled, moving to stand next to the window.

"Need I remind you both that I assaulted a student?" Snape ground out.

"I'm sure that nobody is forgetting that, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "Minerva, could you please bring Miss Weasley to my office," Dumbledore asked mildly.

"Of course," McGonagall answered, hurrying from the room.

"Severus, I would like you to return to your quarters. Harry may join you if you wish," he told them. "Please wait there while I speak with Miss Weasley."

Harry turned from watching the students milling around the grounds to meet Snape's eyes. "All right, sir."

Snape nodded curtly and left the office with Harry close behind. "That's good, right – that he's going to talk to Ginny first?" Harry asked hopefully. "He could have fired you on the spot."

"This isn't going to end well, Harry," Snape replied, unable to look at his mate.

Harry's stomach clenched painfully and he reached out grabbing Snape's hand. He stared up at him, uncaring that he was now pressed against the man's arm in a public corridor. The whole school had to know by now what he was to Snape and if what Snape was saying was right, well, it didn't really matter either way.

"Don't say that," he begged.

Snape tightened his fingers around Harry's. "I'm only trying to prepare you. The Headmaster has no choice. I'm sure the owls are already arriving at the Ministry as we speak."

"If you leave, I'm going with you," Harry said, determined.

"You will not," Snape snapped. Harry flinched at the harsh tone, unused to being in the direct line of it for some time now.

"But-"

"Harry, you will stay here and finish out the year," said Snape in a rush. "Do you understand me?"

Harry gulped and nodded. "Yes."

They were reaching the more populated parts of the castle now, and Harry couldn't help but notice the curious stares and whispers of the students. He glared defiantly back at them as Snape ignored them completely.

"Haven't you got something better to do?" a voice asked from behind them.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, ready to tell someone off, but the words weren't directed at them. Draco was standing angrily over two Slytherins. "Bugger off," he told them and they scurried away.

"Did you get sacked?" Draco asked with no preamble.

"It's only a matter of time," Snape informed him as Draco fell in step beside them.

Draco glanced over at Harry and scowled. "This is your fault you know."

Harry stiffened for a fraction of a second, before his shoulders drooped forward. "Yeah, I know."

"Can we not discuss this in the hallway?" Snape hissed, glaring at the two young men on either side of them.

"Why?" Draco slanted a look at his godfather. "It's not like it's much of a secret anymore."

"Draco," Snape warned, and Draco held his tongue until they were behind the walls of Snape's quarters, where he let loose.

"Why the hell did you have to go spouting off about Potter being your mate? Not that I haven't wanted to strangle a Weasley before, but really did you have to?"

"Leave him alone, Malfoy!" Harry said, standing in front of Snape protectively, which just made Draco smirk. Snape rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Enough," Snape said tiredly. "It's done," he said, scowling at Draco.

Harry tipped his head backwards and frowned. "So, we just sit here and wait then?"

Snape shrugged. "Yes."

"Bollocks," Harry grumbled, pulling away. He stalked across the room and picked up Snape's violin case. In quick, jerky movements, he opened it and pulled out the finely kept instrument. He went about twisting the pegs and plucking at the strings until he gave up. Who cared if it sounded like crap, especially right now?

He hadn't expected Snape to move beside him, but it was good that he did. Roughly, he handed the violin to him.

"Play something," he gritted out.

Snape wordlessly took the violin and began to play. It was a song of heartbreak, longing and despair. Harry sat on the floor at his feet, his arms wrapped around his knees, rocking back and forth.

Draco had turned away, unwilling to let either see the tears on his face.

Harry kept his eyes squeezed shut to prevent any more tears from escaping, even as the sound huddled around him, beating him until he couldn't take it any longer. He wrapped his arms around Snape's legs, clinging desperately as he wiped his wet face against the man's trouser legs. Malfoy was right, this was all his fault. All of it, from the very beginning, had been his fault. He couldn't even pretend to be neutral anymore. His throat constricted and he let out a strangled sob.

As if sensing Harry's pain, the music abruptly stopped. "Draco, leave us please," Snape asked softly, and waited for the soft click of door before kneeling beside Harry and enveloping him in his arms.

"I'm sorry," Snape whispered as Harry clung to him, sobbing. "I'm sorry I did this to you."

"It's not your fault. You kept pushing me away. You kept trying to do the right thing."

"I was weak," Snape whispered angrily. "I should have kept pushing, but I wanted you." He held Harry tighter. "I wanted you. I'm sorry."

Harry buried his face against Snape's chest. This shouldn't hurt as much as it did. Snape could still be around tomorrow and the day after that, they just didn't know yet, but Merlin his whole body ached and he wondered if this was what dying felt like.

Harry's breath hitched in his throat as he tried to speak, but the words got stuck. "I--"

"Shh," Snape said, stroking Harry's hair. He knew that he could ask right now, ask Harry to come with him to the lake, and he would say yes. Harry would follow him to the very depths, knowing he would never return.

He clenched his teeth together, fighting the impulse with everything he had. He couldn't do that, not to Harry. But gods, how he wanted to.

The portrait swung open almost silently and Albus stepped through surveying the scene before him. With a heavy heart, he cleared his throat.

Snape raised his head, but Harry didn't bother. He understood now. There was no hope for clemency. Snape would be asked to leave, and Harry needed to decide whether to go with him. He promised Snape that he would finish out the year, but was there really any point? Harry knew his decision already.

He finally raised his head and looked defiantly at Dumbledore.

"Harry, will you leave the room for a moment?"

Harry stood, his hand lingering on Snape's shoulder, before he went to the bedroom and shut the door. He wished he had asked Snape how to make the walls disappear like he had done before.

Dumbledore looked upon Snape with deep sadness. "Oh, my boy," he said, his voice ripe with emotion. "That it has come to this."

"Just say it, Albus," Snape said, getting to his feet, back straight and proud.

"You know that I have no choice," Dumbledore told him sadly. "I have to ask you to leave."

Snape nodded. "And what of the boy?"

"Harry can finish his studies and graduate with the rest of his class. You are welcome to stay in the lake until that time, but I must ask that you keep well away from the students. And for Harry's own safety, I think we must ban him from the lake for the time being."

Snape snorted. "Has Harry ever listened to a ban on his behavior? You spoiled him, Albus; he doesn't fear consequences as he should."

"Then you must make him understand, Severus."

~*~

Harry lay on Snape's bed and curled into a ball, watching Snape's mum just as intently as Snape's mum was watching him back.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, gripping the pillow tightly. The dark haired woman shook her head with a scowl and Harry picked up the picture and rolled onto his back. "This is all my fault."

The woman rolled her eyes and Harry frowned. "It is! I never listen to anyone, and now your son is about to be expelled from the castle, I just know it, and it's all my fault!"

She shook her head and smiled at him sadly. She touched her fingers to her lips, and held her hand out towards Harry, causing a sob to rise in his throat.

Snape entered the room and took in the scene before him. He sat beside Harry, placing a hand on his back. "She was a Nix," Snape told him, smiling fondly at his mother. "My father ultimately chose to leave her. She understands better than anyone, Harry," he said, and his mother nodded, regarding Harry in particular.

"Did you get-"

"Yes."

Harry fell silent and stared down at Snape's mother as she sunned herself on a rock he now recognized from being beside the lake. "When are we leaving?"

" _We_ are not. I am leaving. You will finish out the term and graduate, and then we shall see."

"No!" Harry said, rolling from the bed and to his feet. "I'm going with you!"

"No, you are not," Snape said, his voice remaining calm. "Do not fight me on this, Harry. It's only for a few months."

"I don't trust you to come back," Harry said, shaking his head.

Snape closed his eyes, his hand drifting up to Harry's neck. "Stay."

"Here?"

"Yes, I don't want you to go tonight. Please stay," Snape said, diverting Harry away from the subject.

"Okay," Harry murmured, leaning into Snape's side. He smiled weakly as Snape's arm slipped around his shoulder and his head rested on top of his own.

Snape ran soothing circles on Harry's back, and waited for the boy to fall asleep. It didn't take long. Harry was exhausted. Snape allowed himself a few small moments with him before getting up from the bed.

He went to his desk and wrote a letter to Harry, and another to Dumbledore, outlining what to do with his possessions. With that done, he grabbed his violin case, returned to Harry, and placed it on the pillow next to him. He brushed back a lock of hair from Harry's forehead and removed his glasses, placing them on the bedside table.

He sat next to him, watching him sleep, his face troubled, even in his dreams. Snape knew he had to leave, before he couldn't do it. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Harry's forehead. "I love you, Harry. Please forgive me," he choked, then stood and left the room. He would tell Draco goodbye, as he had promised, and then he would leave the castle for good.

~*~

  
Harry groaned when something hit the side of his head. He tried to bat away the assailant and found his hand connected with something hard. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room.

He felt around the bed beside him, fear curling in the pit of his stomach as his fingers brushed against leather. He gripped the case strongly, and stiffly pulled it onto his lap. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he swung his feet over the side of the bed, not even feeling the chill of the floor. Grabbing up his wand, he cast Lumos and bathed the room in yellowed light. It was empty, as he had feared.

Clinging to the instrument in his hands, he crossed the room in silence to the desk where two pieces of parchment lay. He set the violin on the smooth surface as he examined the letters. Snape's sharp handwriting was scrolled over the two pages and he picked up the one with his name at the top.

It was short – too short in Harry's mind – just a single paragraph that said nothing he hadn't heard before. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, crumpling the parchment in his hand. He was tempted to read the letter to Dumbledore, but he couldn't bring himself to look.

He went to the bed and sat down, staring blankly at the wall. He wished he knew the spell so he could see into the lake. Would he see Snape there, on the outside looking in? Alone.

Harry un-crumpled the paper and read it again, finding no more satisfaction in it than the first time. He got to his feet and stormed from the room and out of Snape's quarters. He didn't care if it was the middle of the night; he knew Snape wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to Draco. He'd find Draco and get the answers he was looking for!

With that plan firmly in mind, he wound his way through the twisted corridors and came to a stop in front of the stone wall concealing the Slytherin Common room.

Standing outside, he had no idea what to do next, considering it was the middle of the night. He tried pounding on the wall, but there was no response. Running his hands through his hair in agitation, he made his way from the dungeons in search of one of the Hogwarts ghosts. Maybe he could convince Nearly Headless Nick to wake Draco up for him.

He needn't have bothered. Harry met Draco on the stairs, and Harry thought if he looked half has horrible as Draco, he must look like absolute pixie shit. Draco's hair was a mess, and his eyes were rimmed red as he scowled angrily at Harry.

Harry didn't even hesitate before shoving Draco up against the wall and pinning him there by his arm.

"Where did he go?" he snarled.

"Where do you think he went, Potter?" Draco growled, shoving Harry away. "He's gone to the lake. He's going to bloody die down there, and if you don't stop it from happening, I swear to god I'll kill you," Draco snarled.

"How long ago since he left?"

"About twenty minutes. You'd better hurry."

Harry nodded and began to take the stairs two at a time. "Potter!"

Harry stopped at the top, looking down at Draco. "Don't take no for an answer."

"Not a chance," Harry replied, and took off at a run.

His feet barely touched the floor as he bolted through the castle, not even caring that Mrs. Norris was yowling as he flew past. His heart raced quickly and adrenaline pumped through his veins making him go faster than he had ever run before.

Harry knew he had to get to the lake before Snape disappeared beneath the surface, he felt it acutely in the way his muscles stretched and burned and knew he'd only feel worse if Snape succeeded in leaving the surface world.

"Harry!" Two arms caught him around the shoulder and he was forced to a stop. He looked up to see his best friend gazing at him worriedly. "What happened?"

"No time to explain, Ron, trust me, just let me go."

To his shock Ron did and Harry stumbled forward, crashing to his knees hard.

"It's pouring outside, mate, and its midnight."

"So?" Harry panted, getting up to his feet slowly.

"I'm not letting you go out there alone. I'm going with you."

Harry nodded and took off again, not even bothering to give Ron a verbal answer. If the redhead wanted to come with him, so be it, but now he had to put on even more speed if he ever was going to reach Snape in time. Tears streamed down his face unnoticed as he burst out of the front doors into the downpour. He gasped as cold water assaulted his heaving body. He barely heard Ron behind him as he stepped onto the squelching mud-covered grounds and took off, slipping and sliding as he careened towards the lake.

The rain blinded him, seeping behind his glasses and making the dark journey even more impossible. He reached the hill overlooking the lake by sheer luck and stumbled to a stop. He squinted down at the illuminated figure below.

Snape had brought a lantern with him and it rested on the shore. It's like cast an eerie glow on the lake, yet it was the man wading in the shallows that caused him grief.

"Severus," he hollered over the wind and driving rain. He moved forward down the hill, slipping dangerously, kicking up mud as he went. "Please, wait!"

He caught his footing as the hill leveled off into the sandy shore. Snape was waist-deep in the water and Harry knew that one more step would send him out of his life, possibly forever. "Please," he cried.

Snape heard the cry, and hesitated. Closing his eyes, he took another step into the water, Harry's cries echoing all around him. He felt as though his heart was shattering into pieces as he waded further out into the lake.

But he couldn't take the final step, the one that would put him out of Harry's life forever. He choked back a sob. Please.

He raised his face to the sky, wanting to scream out his pain to the heavens, but he clenched his jaw tight, refusing. Then two hands were on his shoulder.

Harry.

When he opened his eyes, it was not to find Harry, but Cadmus. "You've put this off for too long, Severus. It's time to come home," the Merman told him gently.

Nodding, his tears mixing with the rain, Snape followed Cadmus into the water, Harry's cries fading away. If only the pain could be blocked just as easily. He now understood how it was that his kind could die without their mate. He was dying by the second, and at the moment, he welcomed it.

"NO!" Harry's heart stopped for a second, before shuddering to a start too fast. He ran into the water, not caring that there was no spell on him, not caring that if he lived through this Snape would probably kill him, not caring that he could die. "NO!"

Strong arms wrapped around his waist and chest and started pulling him backwards out of the darkened depths. "Let me go! Let me go, let me GO!" Harry twisted and lashed out, arms and legs thrashing sending water into the air.

"No," Ron grunted, still pulling him backwards. Harry pulled more forcefully, and managed to dislodge Ron's arm from his chest and he surged forward once more. Ron caught him tightly and tugged him backwards against his chest. "No," he repeated.

Harry collapsed. The muscles in his legs and arms gave out as they reached the shore and Ron sat down on the muddy bank, holding him.

"Why didn't you let me go?"

"It's too late, Harry. You have to let him go. He's doing this for you," Ron told him, holding him tightly. "And I'm not ready to lose you."

Harry trembled, his eyes slipping shut as Ron held him. "But I'm not ready to lose him."

"I know, mate," Ron whispered, kissing the side of Harry's head. "I know."

"I'm not going back inside," Harry murmured into the silence.

They were both soaked and shivering, but Ron knew Harry meant it. He reached into his robes for wand, then cast an umbrella spell, followed by a drying and warming spell. "Thanks," Harry murmured, staring out into the dark water.

He blinked into the dimly lit area lit by Snape's lantern, which flickered as rain managed to get inside the enclosed part, slowly but surely extinguishing its light. Darkness pressed around them, and soon, Harry found himself nodding off to the hypnotic sounds of the rain falling and the water lapping against the shore.

~*~

  
Snape knew he was still there, waiting on the shore, waiting for him. He had been swimming in agitated circles, fighting the urge to poke his head above the water, just to make sure Harry was all right.

He saw when the light went out, the surface of the lake become dark once more. Cadmus had been watching him carefully, ready to step in if necessary. But now he was finally gone, leaving Snape alone.

Knowing he was making a mistake, Snape swam to the surface, needing to be certain that Harry was back in the castle, safe from the elements and safe from him.

He hadn't expected to find Harry there, sleeping wrapped in the arms of Weasley. Had Harry been gone, or even alone, Snape might have been able to swim away. But his mate was being comforted by another, protected by another, and it was too much.

Keeping his body below the water he swam slowly so as not to disturb the surface. He kept close to the sheet rock below him, his skin brushing against it as he drew closer to the shore. Snaking a hand out of the water, he gently grabbed Harry's ankle and tugged. Weasley's arm fell off the boy making his job easier.

There was nothing stopping him now. Inch by precious inch, he pulled Harry into the water, mindful of not waking the other boy. Moving backwards in a single smooth motion, Harry's entire body submerged in the shallow water, save his head. With one swift tug of the leg, Harry's head slipped under.

Harry awoke with a start as he began to choke. His eyes opened, but he could see nothing but dark and murky water around him. He tried to kick to the surface, but he was being pulled downward. He was running out of air, and he tried to scream, but the sound was swallowed up by the water.

He tipped his head back emitting a pained cry towards the brightening sky as dawn broke above him. Then his world went dark, and he knew no more.

 ** _Epilogue_**  
Snape swam through the dark water, pining for his mate. But Harry wasn't here. He was at the bottom of the lake where Snape had left him. Unable to be away from him for a minute more, Snape snapped his tail through the water, propelling him faster until he finally reached his destination, shifting effortlessly back into his human form.

 _Harry._

Snape ran a finger lovingly down Harry's closed eyelids, wishing to see Harry's bright green eyes, shining again, just for him.

His wish was granted, and the lids opened and Harry smiled at him sleepily. "You're home early?" Harry said, reaching out his hand and pulling Snape back in to bed.

"I missed you," Snape admitted, draping himself over Harry.

"You've only been gone for a few hours," Harry laughed, running a hand up Snape's bare back.

"Which was a few hours too long," Snape groused, burying his face in Harry's neck.

Harry snorted, twirling his fingers in the drifting strands of long black hair. "You didn't have to go at all."

"I don't like Lobalugs near our home. I'd rather deal with them elsewhere," Snape said, kissing Harry's neck.

"Wish you didn't have to deal with them at all," Harry said, craning his neck to give Snape's clever mouth better access.

Snape hummed in agreement, sucking at the junction of Harry's neck and shoulder. Harry moaned softly, glancing out into the glassless window as a fish swam by lazily. Despite it’s glassless state, no water was entering either.

"It still boggles me that we can see out, but nobody can see in," Harry said, letting his fingers trail up and down Snape's back.

"You'll get used to it," Snape assured him, pulling back to look into Harry's face, frowning.

"Severus, if you ask me one more time if I'm sorry, I swear..." Harry warned, knowing the look all too well.

"I wasn't going to ask," Snape said, lying. Harry couldn't leave the boundaries of the lake, he'd been forced to give up his world, and Snape was still waiting for Harry to resent him for it.

Harry cupped Snape's face. "There's nowhere else I want to be," Harry assured him. "I love you, and living without you would destroy me, so stop."

Snape leaned forward and kissed Harry lightly on the lips. He knew one day Harry would change his mind, but for now he would be content.


End file.
